


The Stark Scenic Retreat

by McG



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, shield is a historic preservation society
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McG/pseuds/McG
Summary: Steve Rogers is the newest member of the Visitor Reception Team at the Stark Scenic Retreat (or SSR for short): a ten square mile woodland estate built by Howard Stark, in upstate New York: a playground for invention. The site is now in the care of the Society for the preservation of Historic Industrial and Engineering Landmarks and Domains (S.H.I.E.L.D.) As Steve gets to grips with life after the army, being reunited with his friend Bucky, and working at a busy tourist attraction, the SSR faces its own challenges. Justin Hammer wants to convert it to a spa hotel and resort, and Tony Stark, main benefactor and SSR shareholder, is caught up in his own issues and seems unwilling to help save Steve's new home and family. Or a story of team bonding, team building, pride and prejudice, and the daily trials of working in the customer-facing environment of tourism.





	1. Steve starts his new job, and a threat appears on the horizon

_The Stark Scenic Retreat,_ the leaflet read, _often simply referred to as the SSR, was built by the industrialist, futurist, engineer and arms dealer, Howard Stark. A large country mansion set in a ten square mile estate, including woodland, and a formal garden designed in the Art Nouveau style. With a whole range of modern conveniences, and Howard’s inventors workshop adjacent to the main house, the site’s design was way ahead of its time._

_The house had been intended as an extensive playground for designing and testing his inventions, as well as hosting, and impressing, clients and investors of his business, Stark Industries. And of course, with his reputation as something of a ladies man, Howard is also rumoured to have used the site to host guests of a rather more personal nature!_

_Following the untimely death of Howard and his wife, the SSR was left to Howard’s business partner Obadiah Stane while the majority share of Stark Industries and the role of CEO went to Howard’s son. Twenty-one years old, bereaved, and in charge of a company he showed little interest in running, Tony Stark spent much of his time in California, leaving the day-to-day running of SI to Stane._

_Three years after Howard and Maria died, Stane was arrested and convicted for selling Stark weapons to known terrorists and enemies of state. Following his conviction, the SSR was handed over to the care and upkeep of the Society for the preservation of Historic Industrial and Engineering Landmarks and Domains (S.H.I.E.L.D.)._

_The site continues to thrive to this day and receives thousands of visitors each year. With woodland trails, a grand mansion, and an award winning cafe on site, it makes for a great day out for all the family. History buffs and engineering students will love the archive collection of Howard Stark’s personal papers, and the gardens are a beautiful place to relax and take in the scenery._

Steve looked up from the flyer in his hand, and smiled nervously at the Englishwoman in front of him. He tugged at the dark blue uniform shirt he had been issued, and smoothed the lanyard round his neck with the name badge declaring him to be: “Steve Rogers, SSR Gate Team”. 

“Welcome to the team,” Peggy told him, smiling and trying to put him at ease, “I’m Peggy, you know Bucky already, obviously. Sam is the other member of the Gate Team, and you’ll be working with him tomorrow.”

She gestured for Steve to follow her, and pushed open the door to the office in the back room of the imposing stone gatehouse. She pulled open a cupboard and took out a cardboard box, dropping it with a thud onto the tatty desk in the corner of the room. Dust floated up, dancing in the early morning light shining in the small window. 

“Ok, so the prices are on the board,” she began briskly, “the ticket machine will add up the totals for you, but you’ll soon learn the most common ones. SHIELD supporters get half price entry, and members of the Friends of SSR get free entry - you get a clicker to keep a tally of them.” Peggy brandished said clicker, and rummaged in the box on the desk, waving a handful of leaflets at him before stuffing them into a black nylon courier bag. 

“Everyone gets a welcome leaflet, and a flyer to join the Friends of SSR or SHIELD, if they join here today we refund their entrance fee, and they can join here or at the gift shop. 

“Once they’ve bought a ticket, you direct them to the car park, which is a left turn at the end of the road.” she gestured to the road end, just beyond the entrance barrier. 

“There's no parking right outside the main house but there's a drop off area at the rear, and that's where the disabled parking is too. Gift shop, tea rooms, and visitor exhibition are at one end of the main car park” she pointed to the cluster of buildings directly across from them on the opposite side of the ornamental lake. 

“And the house and Howard's workshop are at the the other end of the main car park. There are over forty miles of walking trails through the woodland and the landscape gardens, trail guides are available in the visitor centre, and there’s a scenic drive through part of the site, which is the blue line on the map and its signposted from the main car park. 

“You’ll get full training from Coulson next week, he’s head of customer service. Here’s your copy of the guide book, read it, memorise it, be prepared to answer a myriad of questions on it from visitors. For today you are going to shadow me and Bucky, you’ll pick up the welcome speech and the main questions and answers pretty quickly. If it’s quiet this afternoon we might get you started on actually selling some tickets, with one of us on hand to help out. And I hope you’re ready, because Clint has just headed up to open the gates, and there’s already a queue forming. Any questions?” 

Steve was reeling slightly from the onslaught of information. He was worried he’d promptly forget it all, and he was very concerned that he wanted to make a good impression in front of the impeccably dressed and put-together woman who clearly knew the place inside out. 

“Um, who’s Clint?” he asked, mentally cursing himself for not being able to think of anything more insightful to ask. 

“He’s one of the wardens. He’ll be by to scrounge tea and biscuits off us later so you’ll probably meet him then. Oh, you’re on hot drink duty today, by the way.” Peggy used a hand on Steve’s arm to turn him round so that he was now facing the workbench along the side of the office. It had an electric kettle, a small collection of battered mugs and cups, a circular sink, and three brightly coloured ceramic jars labelled ‘tea’, ‘coffee’ and ‘sugar’. There was a list written in blue ink on a torn piece of notepaper that listed each member of the team, and what their hot drink preference was.

“We usually eat lunch in here too,” she added, “and there are spare leaflets, next to the safe, in the corner cupboard.” she glanced over her shoulder to the window, which overlooked the approach road. 

“I see cars, let’s get to work.” She handed him the shoulder bag stuffed with leaflets, placed a SHIELD branded baseball hat on his head, and strode out to greet the first car in the small queue at the barrier. 

\---  
Later, after what seemed like an endless stream of visitors, questions, and mad dashes back into the gatehouse to fetch more leaflets, Steve finally got a chance to sit down at the picnic table outside the gatehouse to enjoy his coffee. 

“How are you finding it, midget?” Bucky asked, helping himself to a cookie from a tin decorated with Christmas patterns, and stealing a sip of Steve’s coffee to wash it down,  
“Regretting me hooking you up with the gig yet?” 

“Well it’s intense,” Steve replied, scowling and smacking at Bucky’s prosthetic arm as he took back his drink. “I never knew a place like this would be so popular.” 

“Yeah, it can be a bit manic, but you get used to it.” Bucky unclipped his leaflet bag and sat down across from Steve. “Mornings are always busiest, because people want to come and get a whole day here; get their money’s worth on the entrance fee. The afternoons are always quieter and more SHIELD Supporters and Friends, so they’re usually less work. We get a few regulars too - you’ll get to know them; if it’s quiet they sometimes stop for a chat.”

A stocky man with dark blond hair, wearing a SHIELD gilet over a white t shirt suddenly appeared beside the table, snagging the cookie tin. 

“You must be the newbie,” he said through a mouthful of cookie. “did Buck seriously just call you a midget?”

At well over six foot tall, Steve was not a small man. 

Bucky grinned, “I have known Steve my entire life, and let me tell you, he’s spent more of it as a midget than he has as the gigantor he is now.” 

“Well I find that hard to believe,” the man said, holding out his hand to shake Steve’s, “I’m Clint, I’m a warden here, coming up five years now”.

“I’m Steve, I’ve been here less than a day. It’s good to meet you.” 

Clint smiled, and then pulled himself up to sit cross legged on the picnic table, still holding the cookie tin. 

“So have you had The List for next week yet?” Clint asked.

“The List is all the advance bookings and events and things that we have for the week ahead,” Peggy explained for Steve’s benefit, leaning on Bucky’s good shoulder. Turning to Clint she added “Coulson normally brings it down but Hill asked me to collect it. I’m guessing you’ve seen it?”

“Guess who Fury is meeting with next week?”

“Who?”

“Justin Hammer.”

“What, as in, Hammer Industries? As in the guy who knocked down a hundred year old castle to build a spa hotel last year? That Justin Hammer?” Peggy asked. 

“The very one.” Clint nodded.

“Is that unusual,” Steve said, “for Fury to be meeting business owners, I mean? I thought there were lots of people like that who donate places like this.” 

“There are, but Hammer’s not your average businessman. He’s known for trying to get as many historic buildings as possible converted to resorts.”

“I heard that he tried to submit a proposal to the national parks to build a replica chateau in the middle of Yosemite, complete with new road link,” Bucky said, frowning worriedly. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably true, plus he once wrote an open letter to the city of New York to explain why they should start charging for access to Central Park. He’s a total nut job who just wants to commodify all sites with natural and historic value for his own profit. So if he’s coming knocking, then I think we should be worried.” Clint declared. 

Peggy frowned and chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. 

“I’ll ask Hill about it when I go up to the office later,” she said.

The loud rumbling of an engine and the hiss of air brakes interrupted the conversation. 

“Looks like the two thirty coach trip is early,” Bucky said, getting to his feet, “grab some extra leaflets, Steve, and I’ll show you how it’s done.”


	2. Steve has his induction training; Tony and Pepper talk business

“So if that’s all clear, then I will let you get back to it, Captain Rogers.” Coulson looked up from his stack of papers and smiled benevolently at Steve. He was older than Steve’s colleagues on the gate team, and wore a smart suit and tie, rather than the branded SHIELD gear of most of the staff. Over coffee at the start of the training session Steve had watched him eat a powdered jelly doughnut without spilling any food at all onto his clothes. 

Phil Coulson, Steve decided, definitely had magic powers when it came to neatness and organisation.

“Thank you,” Steve responded, “I’ll fill those forms in for you ASAP, and any questions about the role, I can go to Peggy or come to you, right?”

“That’s right.” Coulson stood and crossed to open the door for Steve, letting him out of the small office straight out into the back staircase that led to the rear of the main mansion house, avoiding having to negotiate crowds of visitors in the narrow hallways of Howard Stark’s former country retreat. 

He exited the building by a side door, smiled politely at a young couple pushing a buggy through to the courtyard of the house, and nodded a greeting to the man helping an elderly lady, perhaps his mother, out of the car and into a wheelchair at the back of the building. 

As he came around the corner and could see the gatehouse, he spotted Peggy coming out from the office carrying a tray of drinks, and he picked up his pace to a jog to try and make it back while there was still some cake left. 

There was just one car waiting at the barrier, which Bucky was attending, and he could see Sam Wilson sitting at the picnic table folding leaflets and stuffing them into his and Peggy’s bags. 

 

It was Steve’s second day in the SSR gate team, and his first working with Sam (though he’d yet to actually do any work thanks to Coulson’s four and a half hour training session). Sam and Steve had met once before when Steve had been on leave and Bucky was enrolled in Sam’s recovery programme at the VA back in the city. 

Steve liked the man for his quiet confidence, and he was grateful to him for having been around to support Bucky through his readjustment to civilian life, when Steve himself had been still stuck in Afghanistan and unable to be there for his oldest friend.

“Hey,” Steve greeted the others as he joined them at the table. Peggy passed him a mug of coffee, steam rising in the cool spring air. “Thanks! I thought I would have missed out.”

“Coulson is nothing if not punctual,” Sam said, shielding his eyes from the sun, “we can time pretty much to the minute how long his induction training for new staff members will take.”

“How was it?” Bucky asked, joining them and claiming a slice of cake. 

“Oh, you know,” Steve answered, “I got handouts, my brain might explode from information, and I have a bunch of forms to fill out. Not actually so different from joining the army, as it turns out.”

“Rumour has it that Coulson himself served.” Sam said, leaning in, “but just between us, I don’t think that’s true. I think he’s secret service trained. No way you learn that _I look totally harmless but I could kill you with my thoughts_ smile of his in the army. It’s too terrifying.”

“I heard he’s ex-KGB,” a new voice added, “and that he defected to the US after the fall of the Soviet Union, and that if he gets drunk, he starts to speak with a Russian accent.” 

The new addition to their group was a striking red haired woman, wearing navy blue coveralls and heavy work boots. She sat down next to Sam, who was clutching his chest and feigning breathing hard in fright. 

“Christ, Natasha!” Sam protested, “I swear you’re trying to kill me. You’re stealthier than a cat.”

The woman, Natasha, patted Sam roughly on the head, and took out a penknife from a pocket, using it to cut a sliver of cake for herself. 

“If I was trying to kill you, Wilson,” she explained, “not only would you not hear me coming, you also wouldn’t see me, or indeed know anything about it. You would just simply be taken out, without time to even realise what was happening” she smiled, baring her teeth slightly, and bit into the cake. 

“You’re kind of terrifying.” Steve blurted, his eyes widening in horror when he realised that he’d said it out loud. Bucky threw his head back and roared with laughter. 

“That’s possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. It’s Steve, right?” she held out her hand and Steve shook it. “You served with Bucky.” 

“Um, yeah,” Steve answered, still slightly bemused. 

“He was our Captain.” Bucky added, nudging Steve in the arm and grinning at his worried expression. “Steve, this is Natasha, she’s a warden like Clint. Nat, this is Steve, try not to break him just yet, will you, it would take too long to recruit a replacement.”

Natasha tilted her head and looked thoughtfully at Steve. 

“You’re about twenty-six, right? Twenty-seven? Are you married?” she asked.

“Twenty-six,” Steve confirmed, “and no, not married.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Uh, no?”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I’m just slightly confused about the line of questioning.”

“Have you been up to the cafe yet, met any of the team there?”

Realising where this was going, Sam rolled his eyes and chuckling he made his escape, rising to greet a car approaching the barrier.

“You should keep an eye out for Darcy.” Natasha continued, “She’s nice. She’ll like you. You just need to lift some heavy boxes in front of her; she’ll love those arms of yours.”

Steve leaned slightly into Bucky’s side for moral support, and tugged self-consciously at the fleece jacket of his uniform, where it stretched tightly round his biceps.

“Thanks, Natasha. I think. But I’m really not looking for a relationship right now.”

“I think most of the other waiting staff are a bit young for you, and Thor will actually murder you if you put the moves on Jane. Hill is single, if you aren’t put off by the chain of command thing, or --”

She was cut off by Bucky.

“Leave him alone, Nat. It’s his second day.”

“Day two or day two hundred,” Steve insisted, “I can find my own dates. I’m just not looking right now.”

Natasha hummed thoughtfully and frowned.

“Well in that case, I’m off to kill rhododendrons. If you see Clint, can you tell him he left his bow at my place.”

“His _bow_?” Steve asked, pulling a confused case.

“He’s in charge of population control.” Natasha explained, rising and pocketing the penknife. “We have a deer problem.”

With that she left, striding up the road and heading for her work van, parked at the end of the entrance road.

“I’m finding today very confusing.” Steve said, sounding mournful.

“You’ll get used to it.” Bucky told him, not unsympathetically. “Now come on, back to work. There’s a queue forming.”

\--

Meanwhile, around 100 miles away, in his Manhattan office building, Tony Stark was nursing a headache. Today had been bad so far. First of all he had been dragged out of bed at the crack of 10am, and forced to sit through a board meeting in which his life choices had been questioned and picked apart by a bunch of stiffs in suits. The only bright point of the morning had been seeing his former PA, and now CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts put the rest of the board in their place and ride roughshod over every single one of their ridiculous complaints about the proposals for the new direction of the company. 

Pepper herself knocked quietly on the door of the office, and came in without waiting for a response. She placed a glass of ice water in front of Tony, and shook two painkillers out of a bottle. 

“Here, take these, drink this, and if you’re good I might let you have some coffee.” she announced, starting to shuffle papers around on Tony’s desk, and clearing some space. 

Tony groaned without lifting his head from the desk, and reached blindly for the painkillers, trying to swallow them dry before giving up and sitting up to drink the water. 

“Coffee now.” he demanded, rubbing his temples and scowling at Pepper. She sighed, and produced a vacuum flask from her purse, pouring out half of the coffee into a mug for Tony. She reached back into the purse and took out her own SI branded travel mug declaring her to be the “World’s Best CEO!”. It was interesting how Tony felt it appropriate to break the news to someone that he wanted to give them control of his company. She’d taken to using the mug every day just to remind herself that she hadn’t imagined it. 

Pepper poured the remaining coffee from the flask into her own mug and took a seat across from Tony. 

“Thank you for coming to the board meeting today,” Pepper said, sipping her drink. “I know it got rough in there, but believe me, it is ten times easier to get them to listen to my opinion if they can see you’re there. 

“I swear I heard Smith trying to convince Rosencrantz that I was keeping you on a life support machine and just telling people that I was acting on your behalf. Plus I’m sure it was someone in that room who was the _source close to SI_ who told the New York times that I was the one who ordered the hit on you because I had designs on the company.”

Tony merely grunted into his coffee in response. Pepper frowned. 

“Do you need me to call Dr Yinsen?”

“No,” Tony said, sitting upright and smiling tiredly at Pepper, “I’m ok; just a headache.” 

“Are you sure? No chest pain?”

“Pepper, I’m fine. You know how happy Yinsen is with my recovery, and you know as well as I do that he was happy for me to come back to work. I just slept badly last night, that’s all.”

“Slept badly, or didn’t sleep at all?”

“Is there a difference?”

Pepper sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you need to take the day?” She asked. “Happy can drive you home, you can try and get some more rest.”

“It’s fine, Pep, really. I just need the painkillers to kick in. You need me here for the meeting with Finance, and you’ve already rescheduled it twice.”

“You almost died, Tony. Two months you were stuck there before Rhodey found you. I think Finance will wait another day if you need them to.”

“Pepper, I want to get the new business plan signed off as soon as humanly possible. You know that. It’s bad enough that we have to see out the current contracts. I wanted the weapons division shut down yesterday. The sooner we get sign off to hire the new Clean Tech team and expand Comms and Innovation, the better. So we’re either keeping the meeting with Finance today, or you can recruit me a time traveller so that we can meet them last week instead.”

Tony struggled to his feet, grimacing as he put weight onto his injured left leg, which was braced at the knee. His right hand was still bandaged, and despite gaining weight since he got back, he still looked gaunt. 

Four months ago, during a routine trip to visit a US base and demo some weapons to the army in Afghanistan, Tony had been kidnapped by a known terror cell, the Ten Rings. Held hostage for eight weeks, Stark’s friend and Air Force Colonel James Rhodes had managed to track down and rescue him. The ransom demands for Tony Stark were very public and the whole world knew he’d been taken. Likewise, the US Armed forces and SI public relations teams had made sure that it was very public that he had been found alive and rescued. But the extent of his injuries had been kept quiet, and in the month following his return, Tony had made no public appearances, and only this week returned to work at Stark Industries offices. 

Rumours abounded about the circumstances surrounding Tony’s kidnap, and the nature and extent of his injuries. And the fact that he had almost immediately handed the CEO role to Pepper on his return sparked rumours that he’d died, and Pepper had inherited the role.

When Rhodey had tracked down the location of the terrorist lair, and led a raid to rescue Tony, he was close to death. The bomb attack when the terrorists had first snatched Tony had left shards of shrapnel in his chest, which had become infected, leaving Tony with blood poisoning. His knee had been dislocated, and in those first few days as the terror cell tried to persuade Tony to build them a custom-made missile, they broke his fingers in the attempt to get him to cooperate. 

After it had become clear that the severity of his injuries rendered him useless for any kind of weapon design, they had switched tactics. They kept Tony alive, barely, so that they could use proof of life to try and get a large payout from Stark Industries. In the end this turned out to be the thing that saved him, as their ransom demand enabled Rhodey’s unit to pinpoint their location and eventually storm their camp.

Even once rescued, it was some time before the doctors could say whether they thought he would pull through. Several weeks later, Tony was still under the care of Dr Yinsen, a specialist who against all odds had managed to remove the shrapnel from next to Tony’s heart. Millimeters away and his heart would have been shredded in the initial bomb blast. 

Pepper got up from her chair and crossed the office to hover by Tony’s elbow. He managed a smile for her, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

“Honestly, Pep, I’m ok. We’ll meet with Finance, we’ll get them to sign off on the revised plans, and then I’ll go home and I’ll sleep, I promise.” he tipped his head forward to rest on her shoulder. In her heels she was taller than he was, and she pressed a kiss into his hair. 

“I’ll make it as easy as I can, Tony.” she assured him. “Once we have the plan signed off you can take things easier again. Maybe spend some time at the Malibu house. Let me sort everything out.” 

“What would I do without you, Pepper?” Tony mumbled into the jacket of her designer suit. 

“Well for a start, you’d have to run your own company.” she told him, pulling back from their impromptu embrace. “Finish your coffee, and take a break. I have to make a quick call, and I’ll come back and collect you in time for the meeting.” 

She gathered up her purse, coffee cup and some papers, and crossed back to the door of the office. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?” 

Tony gave her a small smile. “That will be all Ms. Potts.”


	3. Bad news spreads like wildfire

Nick Fury was no pushover. He had a reputation as being the best damn Site Director that SHIELD had, and it was largely down to his careful strategising and knack for eliciting donations that the SSR was so successful. It even made a small profit, which it was able to feed back into SHIELD HQ to support their more financially intensive sites.

An imposing African-American in his early sixties, he had been with SHIELD for as long as anyone could remember. His office at the SSR was on the very top floor of the mansion house, with windows on two sides giving him spectacular views across the whole estate. His office was above those of his two immediate subordinates, Coulson and Maria Hill, and it was rumoured that a secret passageway behind the bookcase led directly to their offices.

Coulson, head of customer service, and Hill, head of estates and facilities, sat across the desk from Fury in his office now. Fury himself stood behind the desk, hands clasped behind his back, and his good eye fixed on the appointment book before him.

“Are you serious?” he demanded of the others.

“Sir,” Coulson began, but Fury cut him off.

“Which imbecile on my staff actually allowed that weasel to make an appointment with me?”

“The request came from HQ,” Hill explained, “Pierce himself sent word that Hammer wanted to meet, and he made it clear that he wants this to go ahead.” Alexander Pierce was chair of the Board of Trustees at SHIELD, and he and Fury had not always seen eye to eye.

“If I have to sit in a room with him and look at his gormless face, then I want one of you in there with me,” Fury declared.

“I’d be happy to,” Coulson offered. Fury turned his back to look out of the window, and Hill mimed wiping her forehead in relief. “You owe me.” he muttered to her under his breath. She nodded to him in confirmation.

“What do we know?” Fury asked.

“Well I think we can guess what he’s interested in,” Coulson answered, “his reputation is pretty clear.”

“Why us in particular though? You have friends on the Board, right Phil?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll put out some feelers, see if anyone’s talking. If Pierce pushed the request through, then the chances are that someone knows something. Jasper Sitwell is usually good for a quiet word, and if not then I think Melinda May is still in the Comms department, so she’s in a good place to spot anything unusual.” 

“I don’t like Sitwell,” Hill declared, “The guy gives me the creeps. Even if he talks, you should run his intel past May anyway. I played against her in the squash tournament last year; she’s good people.”

“Well then that’s settled,” Fury said, “Coulson, you’re going to see what you can find out from HQ, and we’ll reconvene on Thursday. Hammer is coming on Friday afternoon, so that gives us a bit of time to decide what our plan of attack is. No way we’re letting him get one over on us, team. Right, what’s next on the agenda?”

\--

“Do you think we should be worried about this meeting that Justin Hammer has with Fury?” Steve asked Bucky. The two of them were tidying the office and securing the gatehouse for the end of the day; Peggy had already gone up to the main office with the takings.

Bucky grunted as he picked up the signboard that listed the prices, hefting it under his good arm. His prosthetic was state of the art, but not as good as his real arm for heavy lifting.

“Hammer’s a reprobate, but he’s also an idiot. I think there’s no doubt that he’s up to something, but no way can he outdo Nick Fury. Fury’s been at SHIELD forever, and he’s been the money man here for most of that time. He knows how to play the game and he’ll run Hammer off easily. Seriously Steve, it’ll be fine.” He had carried the sign board into the gatehouse office while he talked, and he leaned it against the wall before helping Steve, who was pulling the shutters closed over the windows.

“Now tell me,” Bucky continued, “has Nat given up on her quest to find you a date yet?”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“It’s getting ridiculous. She started to tell me about her friends at SHIELD HQ yesterday. Asked if I was scared to put down roots here because I wanted to go back to Brooklyn. Pointed out that she knew lots of women in New York.”

“You could just tell her you know,” he offered “An intelligent woman like Natasha is probably going to work it out sooner or later. Surely you can just drop a couple of hints? Point out that none of these _women_ are your type.”

“Buck, don’t.” Steve said sharply. “You promised that you wouldn’t say anything.” 

“Give me some credit,” Bucky answered, giving Steve a friendly shove, “I’m hardly going to out you to anyone. I’m just trying to point out that no one here would mind. They wouldn’t treat you any differently. This isn’t the army, Steve.”

“I’m not used to it. Being able to talk about it without worrying about unit morale, or insubordination.”

“All I’m saying is that you might get used to it faster if you actually practised talking about it. I swear to you that this team is one of the most open minded you will ever be in. None of them will think less of you. Hell, some of them might even think more of you for actually sharing something personal about yourself.”

“Just leave it, Buck.” Steve said, “Are you ready to head home?”

“Sure thing, just let me lock up.” He pushed Steve ahead of him out of the door, and locked it behind them, before following Steve up to the staff parking lot.

\--

Steve was dealing with the first car at the head of a small queue when he heard the noise of an engine roaring down the hill from the highway. He glanced up to see a large SUV come to a rapid halt at the back of the queue. He was just finished giving the welcome spiel to his customers when the driver of the SUV blared his horn. He smiled at the couple in the car and wished them a good day, raising the barrier to let them through. Then, seeing the others were all busy, he headed up the row of cars to speak to the new arrival. 

“Good morning, welcome to SSR, can I help you with something this morning, sir?” Steve asked, as the driver lowered his window.

The man driving the car had long dark hair and high cheekbones, and he was wearing a dark suit with a green tie.

“Can you move these cars and let me through,” he asked in what he no doubt thought was a charming tone, “I’m late for a meeting.”

“Who is your meeting with?” Steve asked. He’d seen The List for the week and he knew that the only meeting was Justin Hammer’s appointment with Fury. This was not Justin Hammer. 

“Fury. I’m from Hammer Industries, so it’s a teesy bit more important than these people out for a day trip.” Another car went through the barrier ahead, leaving just two more cars in front of this one. Steve could ask the others to move their customers into the layby beyond the barrier, but something about this man’s disingenuous manner rubbed Steve the wrong way, and he was disinclined to make things easier for him. 

Bucky, now free, caught Steve’s eye and quirked an eyebrow at him, tilting his head to the side. A silent question, _Do you need any help?_

Steve shook his head almost imperceptibly at Bucky then turned back to their mystery visitor. 

“I’m sorry sir, we were expecting Mr. Hammer himself. If you show me some ID then we can get you through just as soon as we can.”

With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, the man took out an ID badge from his jacket pocket and handed it over. It declared him to be Loki Laufeyson, Investment Manager, with the Hammer Industries logo in the corner. 

“Lovely,” Steve said as he handed the card back. “Now if you’ll just wait until my colleagues have finished talking to these customers and we’ll let you through. Don’t worry about the delay, we’ll radio ahead and let Director Fury know that you’ve arrived.” _And that you’re not Justin Hammer_ he silently added. 

Once Loki was through the barrier, Steve jogged over to Bucky, Peggy and Sam, who were huddled by the table. 

“Can you radio Fury,” he asked Bucky, “let him know that Hammer’s sent someone in his place. Name of Loki, and he looks like trouble.” Bucky nodded and stepped away from the group to make the call. 

“Loki?” Sam asked, “Unusual name.”

“And not a very good one, either,” Peggy added, “It’s Norse mythology, isn’t it? Loki was a trickster god.”

“What you think there’s a bit of nominative determination going on there?” Sam asked. 

“Well I got the impression that he thinks he’s as important as a god,” Steve said, frowning slightly, “But I didn’t like him. He was smarmy.”

Bucky rejoined them then. 

“I spoke to Fury, he’s not happy.” he told them, “They were prepared for a meeting with Hammer, but Loki’s an unknown. I’ve radioed Clint and Natasha as well, and told them that we might have a problem. They’re on their way down now. I’ll put the kettle on”. 

 

Natasha and Clint arrived just as Bucky finished stirring milk into the tea, parking their van in the layby beyond the gatehouse. Natasha swung herself out of the passenger door just as Clint was pulling to a halt, and she strode over to the picnic table. She was carrying a foil-wrapped package under her arm, which turned out to be scones from the cafe. 

“Courtesy of Jane,” she stated, putting the scones down on the table, and producing miniature packets of butter and jam from the pockets of her coverall. “She wants a full report back in exchange. Bucky said there was a problem with Justin Hammer?” she asked. 

“The problem was that it wasn’t Hammer,” Bucky said, carrying the tray of drinks to the table. “he’s sent a ringer. Goes by the name of Loki.”

The two wardens exchanged a look. 

“Thor has a brother called Loki,” Clint offered, “he’s some sort of big corporate entertainment executive last I heard. Think it’s the same guy?”

“His last name was Laufeyson, that’s not the same as Thor, is it?” Steve asked. He had yet to meet their head warden, but from what he had heard the guy was friendly and amiable, not at all like Loki had been. 

“No, he’s Odinson, but there was some sort of big family fall out a couple years back,” Clint told them. “Could be he’s using another name now.”

“Thor’s said that he’s a half brother, I think. He might always have had a different last name.” Natasha added.

“So are we worried now?” Steve asked. 

Natasha shrugged, “Too soon to say. Whether he’s Thor’s brother or not, this guy is an unknown factor. Hammer would have been no match for Fury, but he must have sent his stooge for a reason, so let’s assume that they’ve taken that into account.

“I’ll talk to Jane,” she added, “See what she knows. Clint, you talk to Thor. Hopefully Fury will tell us what’s going on after this guy leaves.”

“If not, I’ll get it out of Coulson later.” Clint agreed. He pocketed one of the scones and high fived Bucky before heading off back to the van and driving off.

Natasha sipped her tea, staring across the lake towards the buildings on the far side. 

“I don’t like this,” she told the others, “Fury’s good, but he works on information. If this guy is a total unknown then they’ve got us at a disadvantage. Hammer is a moron and he’s had some very public failures, but they make a huge profit every year, so someone there must be at least vaguely competent.” she tipped the last of her drink into the long grass and placed the empty cup back onto the tray. “I’m off to see Jane. Let me know if you hear anything.” she called over her shoulder as she headed off towards the cafe.


	4. Chapter 4

When Steve and Bucky arrived at the cafe that evening after closing up for the gatehouse for the night, the tables had been pushed back against the walls. A tall blonde woman and a shorter brunette were in the process of arranging chairs in a semicircle in the space in middle of the room. 

“Steve, this is Jane and Darcy, guys this is Steve.” Bucky did a cursory introduction, pointing to each of them as he said their names. They stripped off their coats, hanging them up to dry as Jane crossed the room to come and speak to them. 

“Have you heard anything new?” she asked.

“Not a thing,” Bucky told her. “We saw that dickhead’s car leave at about four, and then Nat came down to tell us that Fury was calling this meeting. I’m guessing it’s nothing good.”

The door opened again, and Clint and Natasha walked into the room, also soaked from the rainstorm. They were trailed by a man that Steve didn’t know. He wore a green fleece jacket and rumpled trousers, and had dark curly hair, unkempt and greying at the temples. 

“That’s Bruce, our reclusive gardener.” Bucky told Steve, but before he could make introductions, Fury arrived, flanked by Coulson and Hill, and called the meeting to order. 

“Take a seat. This is a council of war.” he declared, taking up a commanding pose at the front of the room, his long leather coat incongruous inside the small homely cafe. 

“Are we expecting anyone else?” Coulson interjected. 

“Erik couldn’t stay,” Jane replied, “But Thor should be here.” she frowned and looked to Natasha and Clint. 

“He’ll be here when he’s finished checking the culverts; we can start without him.” Clint told them. 

“As I think you probably all know,” Fury began, “I had a meeting arranged this afternoon with Justin Hammer. We all could guess what he wanted, and we did a little digging, which confirmed that he had some crackpot idea that he wanted to buy the SSR. He has a record of making insane proposals; we weren’t too worried. But instead of Hammer, he sends some rat named Loki.

“We put out some feelers at SHIELD HQ, to see if anyone had heard anything about Hammer and his plans for us. We got nothing, yet my secretary tells me that she made the appointment with him because it came with word from Pierce himself, telling her that it was essential. We cannot find any trace of that email now. We also know that Sitwell claims to know nothing about it, yet he’s on the board, and we’ve heard that one of the admins from Comms was borrowed to take minutes in a meeting. She said nothing on the agenda covered any of this but that someone had asked a question about any future plans for the SSR and Pierce shut them down and asked her not to record it in the notes. The only possible conclusion is that SHIELD has been compromised. I think we can safely say that Pierce is in this up to his neck, but we don’t know how far this goes or who else is involved. For now, we assume we’re on our own here. Trust no one.”

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the darker corners of the room. A huge crack of thunder followed as the doors flew open, momentarily silhouetting Thor. The large bond man strode into the room, one hand wielding a large hammer, and the other a toolbox. His bright red raincoat flapped loosely like a cape. His face was twisted into an angry grimace.

“I have just heard of my brother’s treachery. I will not stand for this!” he declared, crossing the room and depositing the tools on an empty chair, and taking off his coat. he shook his head like a dog, his shoulder-length hair showering the rest of them with water. 

Coulson took this as his cue and stood up, handing round brochures. 

“We were expecting a suggestion from Hammer. Either than we sell him the site, or that he come on board as an investor, and set up a branch of his operation on part of the SSR. We weren’t, however, expecting this.” he explained

He held up his own copy of the brochure, open at a full page map of the SSR site, with an overlay showing plans for developing the site.

“This is not an initial suggestion.” he continued, “this is not the speculative meeting that we were expecting. This is a fully planned out business proposal, and we’ve been deliberately kept in the dark about these plans.”

“Wait a minute,” Natasha said, leafing through the plans, “there are costings in here. Land valuation figures, financial reports on what we’re doing, including for the current year! That’s not information that’s in the public domain. Where the hell have they been getting this from?”

“And there we have the real problem.” Coulson summarised. “That’s proprietary information, and the only way he could have got that is from an inside source.”

Bruce groaned and leaned forward, resting his head in his hands, elbows braced against his knees. Natasha, who was sitting next to him, reached out a hand to rest on the centre of his back as he breathed slowly and deeply. 

“Are you suggesting that someone here…?” Bucky asked, unwilling to state the end of the question out loud. He risked a glance over to Thor.

“No,” Coulson assured them. “I have total faith in this team. And given the shady setup of the meeting today, I think we can definitely put this one with the board. Or at least some of them. Loki is a renowned fixer, he’s worked for a handful of big developers over the years, but also in finance and PR firms as well. He’s known for his ability to negotiate to the advantage of his employers, but we think that the choice to send him here was more than that he’s a skilled mouthpiece. 

“Hammer loves the sound of his own voice too much to pass up an opportunity like this. We think it was a deliberate ploy to cast suspicion on Thor. They knew that they couldn’t do anything further without showing their hand, and they know that the information in this proposal is proprietary. But they also know that we will fight this, and that they stand a much better chance of beating us if we are divided. So for the sake of the site, for all of our jobs, and for the community we serve, we need to stick together on this.”

“But if they’ve got HQ on board already, then what can we do? This is a comprehensive plan, and if it comes with HQ approval then how is this anything other than them serving us notice?” Steve asked.

Bruce groaned and rocked slightly. 

“If this was legitimate then it wouldn’t have been Loki or Hammer calling the meeting, it would have been Pierce.” Coulson told him “They’re also clearly trying to work outside of the proper procedures for this sort of offer. This is clearly all underhand.”

“So we report them?” Steve suggested. 

“Who to? Matters like this go to the board, and we don’t know how many of them might have been compromised. We have no evidence, and they are way ahead of us. They are doing just enough of this deal properly to keep any official complaints from sticking. I suspect we might have been outgunned.” 

“Oh, god,” Bruce gritted out through clenched teeth. He abruptly stood up, shoving his chair back violently, before turning on his heel and storming out the room into the rainy evening. 

“Bruce has anger management issues,” Bucky said quietly in response to Steve’s puzzled frown. “It’s best to just let him calm down by himself for a bit.”

“So what do we do?” Natasha asked. 

“I was hoping that maybe you all could think of some ideas.” Fury told them, looking round the room. 

There was a tense silence, as everyone glanced around the room hoping someone would volunteer something. 

Clint tipped his head back and scrubbed both hands through his hair in frustration. 

“We are so screwed.” he declared.


	5. Chapter 5

Pepper took a quick sip of her now-cold coffee and rubbed her temples to ease the headache forming there. 

“Okay,” she told her PA, “send the documents over to legal and see if they can have a look at them before the end of the week. What’s next?”

The young blond woman in front of her nodded, scribbling notes in a small notebook. 

“Just one last thing,” the PA told her, “a Mr. Coulson turned up asking if you were free for lunch. He said it was a personal call - he’s waiting in the lobby to see if you’re available.”

Pepper’s face brightened and she smiled. “Ah, he’s an old friend from business school. Send him up.” 

 

“Phil!” Pepper exclaimed, standing to greet him, “It’s been too long, how are you? How is my favourite charity case?” As CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper sat on the board of the Maria Stark foundation, who were one of the biggest donors to the SSR.

Coulson accepted a kiss on the cheek and held up a paper bag bearing the logo of the deli across the street. 

“I’m a little stressed, to be perfectly honest. And it’s actually the SSR that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Go on.” Pepper told him, looking in the deli bag and choosing a sandwich and pastry for herself. 

Coulson proceeded to explain to her about the proposals from Hammer Industries and their suspicions of foul play within SHIELD. 

“So you are telling me he wants to convert the whole site into a wellness centre? Isn’t it a protected site?” Pepper asked, frowning.

 

“Unfortunately not,” he explained, “the main house has protected status, but only of the facade. It can be gutted and totally remodelled inside, and the rest of the site gets no protection at all. We’re lucky that the plans actually contain some gardens at all. Legally there’s nothing to stop the whole thing being concreted over for parking.”

“What about if I make a complaint about the proposal? The Foundation donates more than anyone else, and obviously we have the Stark connection.” 

“As an interested party then you are invited to make comments on the plans as part of the consultation, but honestly I don’t think it would help. The board make the final decision, and if they've been compromised then I don’t think any complaints will hold weight.” Phil explained.

“But I thought SHIELD was tasked to protect and preserve sites like this. Howard Stark may have been an asshole of the worst kind, but you can’t deny his significance in the development of engineering. Not to mention his role in 20th century weapons design.” Pepper said, he voice rising. 

“The amount of money that Hammer is offering, there’s a legitimate argument to be made that the sale of one site to raise capital can help preserve multiple other sites of importance. I know we make a surplus every year, but at the moment it’s aquisitions and one-off repairs that are causing problems for SHIELD, not the day-to-day running costs. Most sites make enough in ticket sales and donations to keep them running but it’s hard to get a lump sum together.”

“So what do we do? What do you need from me, from the foundation?” Pepper reached over for her tablet, bringing up her calendar. 

“Right now, Pepper, I have no idea what to do. Fury is certain there’s an inside deal going on, and I think he’s right. But without knowing who is involved then I don’t see what we can do. On the surface everything looks like it’s legal and above board, and we can’t lodge a complaint without evidence. The staff is worried, and I have no idea what to tell them. They seem to have this blind faith that we’ll fix it, but I have no idea what to do. At this point I’m at my wits’ end. I’m looking for any ideas I can get.”

“I wish I could help, Phil, I really do. If you need to raise capital then you know we’re good for that, but in terms of convincing Pierce, or taking out Hammer or this Loki character then I really don’t know what we can do.” she said, slumping slightly in defeat as she considered the reality of the situation. “You know Tony won't like any publicity for SI being tied up with the SSR, and he’s having a tough time with our investors at the moment as it is. Without the go ahead from him then all I can do is write cheques…”

“Pepper, if you think of any ideas, any at all, you will call me, yes?”

“I promise.”

 

\--

“What about Tony Stark?” Steve asked, as he stirred sugar into his coffee.

“What about him?” Bucky said, sitting down at opposite Steve at the picnic table. It was a quiet day, and Peggy was keeping an eye on the entrance gate while her team took a break.

“Well this place used to belong to his father, can’t we get him to do something? He must have some pull with SHIELD - and he’s a stakeholder they have to consider if he’s family of the former owner. I’ve been reading the SHIELD acquisitions manual.”

“Legally, he’s not though. Howard left the SSR to his business partner - Tony got everything else, but legally he’s never owned this site at all. And I know SI channel funds into us every year, the word on the street is that that’s down to Potts, not Stark. There’s always been rumours that Stark and his father didn’t get on. Add to that the fact that this place was owned by Stane, whose dealings nearly ruined Stark completely when he was arrested, and I can see why the guy doesn’t want to get involved.” Bucky explained, wrapping his hand around his coffee cup for warmth.

“But the whole thing could be converted into some luxury spa hotel, and all of the history just lost. How can that not bother him? There’s a tonne of family photos in the exhibition, so we know Stark used to come here when he was a little kid.” Steve said.

“Stark is hardly known for his sentimentality, Steve. Not to mention that he’s barely been seen in public since they pulled him out of Afghanistan. i think he’s got other things to worry about than a country house he had a few childhood holidays in. I mean getting over being kidnapped and nearly dying is bound to take it out of a guy.”

“I bet you he doesn’t even know.”

“Steve, I’m telling you, even if he did know, he couldn’t give a damn about this place.”

“Well I think someone should tell him, and then we’ll find out, won’t we.” 

Steve took out his phone from his pocket, and began tapping away at the screen. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked him.

“Finding a phone number for Stark Industries.” he replied tapping one last time with an air of finality and holding the phone up to his ear while he waited for the call to connect. “Good morning,” he said into the phone, “I’d like to set up a meeting with Ms. Potts, could you connect me to someone that manages her calendar please?”

Bucky listened to Steve on the phone as he managed to charm his way past multiple gatekeepers and was actually able to make an appointment with the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the entire United States, and possibly the world.

“How did you just do that?” Bucky demanded. “What did I just witness? Are you actually an honest-to-God secretary whisperer?”

Steve smiled and shrugged. “It’s a combination of politeness and determination,” he responded. “Be polite and friendly enough that they want to help you, but determined enough that they don’t sense weakness and just hang up. Plus you said yourself, it’s Ms. Potts that has the interest in donation to the SSR, which her secretarial team knows, so tell her I’m a SHIELD agent from SSR, and they can make time for me.”

“And you conveniently left out the part where you sell admissions tickets and that you’ve only been here a couple of weeks?”

“No one asked what my job title was” Steve told him, trying to hide a smile. 

“You are such a con-artist”

“Seriously though Bucky, I don’t care that I’m new to this team. I’m still part of it, and it still matters to me. I’m not going to just turn my back on it because things got a little difficult. I thought you knew me better than that, Buck.”

“I know Steve, once you’re in, you’re all in. You’re a good guy.” he paused and sipped his coffee. “Hey, you wanna take me with you when you go to meet Potts? he asked. I can stand behind you and look menacing.”

“Not really sure that will help, to be honest, Bucky. I was planning to go down the charm offensive route, not the menacing route.” Steve said, smiling.

\--

“Ah good morning, Mr-” Pepper glanced down at the calendar appointment on her screen, the pause almost imperceptible, “I beg your pardon, _Captain_ Rogers. What can Stark Industries do for you today?” she walked round from behind her desk to shake his hand, and gestured that they should sit at the low table in the corner of the office, which was laid out with a coffee pot, a jug of ice water, mugs and glasses, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ms. Potts, and thank you for making time to fit me in this week. I’m sure you must be very busy. I’ll get straight to the point: I want to talk to Tony Stark about the SSR.”

Pepper’s smile turned icy, and she put down the coffee pot she’d been about to pour from. 

“Perhaps you don’t keep up with the business news, Captain, but I’m not actually Mr. Stark’s PA anymore, I’m now the CEO of this company.”

Steve blushed, the tips of his ears pinking, and the cool collected facade he’d established cracked. 

“Oh, gosh, no Ms. Potts, you misunderstand. I know that you’re CEO now, of course, and congratulations, I just-” she cut him off with a wave of her had and sat back in her chair. 

“How about you tell me why you’re here, if it’s not to try and get an appointment the the head of my R&D division, who, I’m sure you’re aware, isn’t actually taking meetings with external people at this time. It’s a risk to security given the small matter of his recent kidnap, or perhaps you missed that bit of news too?”

Steve understood now why Pepper Potts was so effective at her job, both her previous role as gatekeeper of Tony Stark’s life, and now as the matriarch of his company. She was charming, polite, and utterly terrifying 

“Let me explain, I work for SHIELD, at the Stark Scenic Retreat, and there’s some things happening at the moment that are a little difficult. I think that Tony Stark would be in a position to help us out, but I am not sure he would be inclined to do so. I do however, have reason to believe that this might be more relevant to your interests, and so I was hoping that, if you are agreeable, you might be able to get Mr. Stark onboard.”

“Is that so?” she leaned forward again and resumed pouring coffee for the two of them, pushing the milk and sugar towards him once she was finished adjusting her own drink to taste. “The interesting thing is, Captain Rogers –”

“Please, call me Steve,”

“–Steve, that I have friends at SHIELD, and some of them at the SSR, and I attend charity functions there quite often, and it’s strange but I’ve never seen you there before.”

“I’m not much of a one for parties.” Steve said, keeping his face blank.

“Even more interesting, is that Phil Coulson is a close personal friend of mine, we were at Harvard together, but he’s not mentioned anyone on their Finance or Acquisitions teams called Steve Rogers.”

“I’m new,” he interjected.

“He did however mention that the SSR gatehouse team had a new customer agent, who strangely _is_ called Steve Rogers. I can’t believe that this is a coincidence.”

Steve sighed, and held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“At no point in my dealings with any of your employees did I claim to be anything that I am not. I told them that I worked for SHIELD, which I do, and that I’m employed at the SSR, which i am. I was not asked what my job title was, nor how long I had worked there. Technically I did not lie.”

“Hmm, no, I know. You very carefully avoided lying, almost like you knew you would need to point it out that clearly at some point. What also interests me though, Steve, is that you have arranged a meeting with me directly, without informing or involving your own boss, and that you apparently are here to discuss some business that at this point in time is proprietary SHIELD intel, and not a matter of public record.” 

Steve gave her an appraising glance, clearly she had found out who he was before agreeing to take the meeting, but given that she had nonetheless let him keep the appointment and apparently seemed to know why he was there, he concluded that actually this was a good sign. 

“I take it then that you know why I am here?”

“I have my sources. In SHIELD and in Hammer Industries. You want to talk to me about the proposal?”

“Someone is forcing this through Ms. Potts. Quite frankly I don't care if someone reports me for talking to you. As far as I’m concerned this is whistleblowing, and it needs to be done. Someone is trying to bring down the SSR, and we suspect it’s someone inside SHIELD itself. If there’s one thing I hate, it's a traitor. 

“Until we learn more about what might be going on or who might be involved then we can’t trust anyone there. We can only assume that the whole place is corrupt, and right now there’s no one on the inside that we can go to for help on this.”

“And what makes you so sure that I’ve not been corrupted as well?”

“You have an impeccable record of support for the SSR. The Maria Stark Foundation has donated a significant sum every year since you became Tony Stark’s PA, even before you joined the board of the Foundation. There were small intermittent donations in the past, but the year you joined SI, the money came reliably every year.” Steve paused and took a sip of his coffee before continuing. 

“When Stark was taken this year, you publically refused to accept that he was dead, and you lobbied hard for the us army to keep searching for him until they found him . You also refused to take on the CEO role, which was requested in his will. Yet you clearly were keen to take charge given the speed at which the transfer of power went through when he returned and asked you to take the reins. 

“That tells me two things about you, Ms. Potts. That you will fight to the end of the line for the people and things that you believe in, and that you believe in the SSR. 

“So, will you help us?”

I’m going to be perfectly honest with you Capt–, sorry, Steve. I have already had a very similar conversation with Coulson, and I will tell you the same as I told him. If you need finance and funding in the coming months, then my cheque book is always open. But SI can’t and won’t become an advocate for the site. It will hurt our interests, and it conflicts with our other priorities at this time. And apart from that, I don’t see how else I can help you. I’m sorry Steve, I really am, but on this my hands are tied.”

“Ms. Potts, with all due respect, I’m not asking for corporate backing from SI. What I am looking for is a meeting with Mr. Stark. I appreciate that the company isn't willing to get involved, this isn't your fight, I understand that. But it can be Mr. Stark’s. It is his fight. That was his childhood home, and he can publicly state that he has an interest to see it protected in perpetuity, and that will carry weight. 

“It doesn’t get Hammer off our backs completely, but if he was just to make a public statement of support for the site and what we do then that carries weight. It gets the public paying attention and it makes it very difficult for SHIELD to sneak through anything that is less than above board. There is a lot of attention being focused on Mr. Stark at the moment, and if he was to break his silence and be seen in public then he’ll have all eyes on him. A statement that the SSR is important to him will garner so much attention for us, and maybe we can just level the playing field and actually get a genuine appraisal of our current facility against the ridiculous plan that Hammer Industries has concocted. I’m not asking for any shady deals to be made here, I just want this to be a fair fight.”

“I’m sorry, Steve, but I can’t help you. Even if I could persuade Tony to say that, which believe me will be when hell freezes over, but to do so at this time would hurt Stark Industries. I love the SSR, Steve, you’re right there, but SI is my priority and this will hurt us.”

“I don’t see how it can, if Stark just–”

“Steve, I am sorry, but there’s nothing more i can do for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for my next appointment. And don’t worry, I won’t mention to Coulson that you were here.” 

“But, Ms. Potts-” Steve tried to continue, but Pepper effectively ushered him out the door. she paused just briefly. 

“I really am sorry, Steve” she told him, looking sad, “and please, call me Pepper.” 

With that, she closed the office door, leaving Steve gaping like a fish in the waiting room, being watched with a steely glare by the secretary at the desk. 

\--

The internal door opened and Tony came into the office. 

“My ears are burning, Pep. Were you talking about me?” 

“Do you have nothing better to do than sneak into the office to eavesdrop on my meetings? I thought you were supposed to be spending the day resting today.”

“That got boring about two months ago. I wanted to come and talk to the PR team. I think we should do a press conference. I’ve barely been seen in public since I got back, the rumour mill is going wild, our stock is all over the place, and either the _Financial Times_ is weirdly prescient, or someone on the board has leaked the plan to phase out the weapons division.”

He took a seat, and put his feet up on the desk, crossing them at the ankles and continued talking, “the funny thing of course is that you’ve not mentioned any of these problems to me yourself.”

“Tony, you’re not the CEO anymore; you’re head of R&D. Which means that you’re not my first phone call for these matters. Not to mention the part where you’re meant to be still working limited hours and duties. It’s hardly a phased return to work if I call you at all hours of the day and night to discuss the latest fluctuations in the stock or what the trading floor gossip is saying.”

“It’s ok though, because I’ve got a solution to the problem.” he carried on, blithely ignoring what Pepper had said, “We need to re-take control of the story. So I’m holding a press conference, we’re announcing the changes. The stock will take a hit in the short term, but we need to take a firm stance and show clear direction, otherwise we’re going to continue to be all over the place, and the company is going to suffer.” 

“Tony, we’ve talked about this, the timing isn’t right, we need to have the finance in place for the new investments, and we need to have a clear plan for retraining and redeployment of staff in fabrication and–”

“Come on Pep, I know I’m impulsive, but this is hardly my first time at the rodeo, the press conference isn’t until Monday. So you have four days to get all that sorted. Easy.” 

Pepper groaned and covered her face with her hands. 

“The press invites have already been issued, so we can’t retract them now, it will only increase the rumours.” 

“I hate you,” Pepper told him. 

“Yeah, well. Hey, so what did that guy want?”

“He works at the SSR, they’ve got Justin Hammer sniffing around, kid wanted to know if you could put a good word in at SHIELD HQ for them or something.” 

“Like I’d do anything for that decrepit ruin? I hope you told him to take a running jump.” 

“Don’t worry, I know the timing’s not right, we don’t need any more battles on our hands just now. I told him we could only maintain our current level of interest, and we’re not in a position to take on any campaigning work right now.”

“Ah yes the classic ‘sorry not sorry’ brush off, I think I taught you that one.” 

“I’ve talked to Phil about it too. He’s worried. He thinks Hammer has someone on the inside at SHIELD.” 

“Who’s Phil?”

“Coulson.” 

“Coulson doesn’t have a first name. He’s just called Coulson. Like Cher. Or Pingu.”

Pepper simply ignored him and carried on. 

“The Foundation might advance this year's donation if they need a cash injection for this. I think we need to help in any way we can if we can do it without hurting the company.”

“The whole place hurts the company. We should just torch the place and be done with it.” 

“Tony–”

“No, seriously Pepper, that heap of decay is the embodiment of everything that’s wrong with SI now. It’s so wrapped up in the reputation of Howard’s skeeviness, and of Stane trying to bring me down with his criminal dealings. Quite frankly, we’d be better off pulling the place down and using it as the launch platform for our new vision. In fact… hey, I’m going to go and talk to Fury. Tell him the Foundation is cutting them off. Frankly, the faster the place turns into a colon massage center, or whatever the hell Hammer is planning, the better. I’m going to go now, just call–”

“Tony, wait. Fury doesn’t even work on Thursdays. How about you go home, get some rest like Dr. Yinsen told you to, and then we can talk about this tomorrow. I need you to stop making rash decisions; I can barely keep up at this point.”

“Urgh, fine, whatever, I’ll not go there today. I’m right on this though. I know you have some weird fetish for musty old buildings, but we'll just find some starving orphans to siphon money into or something.”

 

\---  
 **Thursday, 7pm**  
\----

Steve had just settled down on the sofa with a cup of tea and a book when someone knocked on the door of the apartment that he and Bucky shared. He reluctantly set down his book, using it as a coaster for the hot tea. 

Their visitor knocked again just as Steve approached the door, 

“Just a sec,” he called, as he unlocked it, and swung it open. On the other side stood Phil Coulson. “Um, hi?”

“Am I early? Clint asked me to stop by the store on the way here and the line wasn’t as long as I was expecting.”

“Early?” Steve echoed, still a little startled and somewhat confused about why his boss was standing at the door of his apartment. He was acutely aware that he had changed into lounge pants and a ratty old t shirt when he’d got home from work, and that he wasn’t wearing underwear.

“Clint said seven o’clock? For the meeting?”

“I think the term he used was a council of war, actually.” Bucky appeared behind Steve. Fresh out the shower he was shirtless, wet hair combed back against his skull. He had a towel slung over his left shoulder, covering up the scarred joint and he was not wearing his prosthetic arm. He slung the other arm other Steve’s shoulder, subtly maneuvering him back from the doorway so that he could invite Coulson into their apartment. “Come on in, boss. Can I get you a drink?”

Coulson stepped over the threshold, and swallowed convulsively, “Some, ah” he cleared his throat, “some ice water would be great.” 

He followed Bucky into the small kitchen, and fumbled the bag with the snacks as he tried to unpack the contents. Steve trailed after them. 

“I didn’t know anyone was coming over.” he protested, still slightly perturbed by the unexpected arrival of his boss in his home. The fact that Coulson appeared to be nervous didn’t help: it wasn’t an state of being that Steve thought the composed and organised man was capable of.

There was another knock at the door a few minutes later, and Clint and Natasha could be heard bickering on the other side of it. Steve wandered back out into the hallway to let them in. They barged past with confidence, Clint carrying a crate of beer and Natasha a bottle of wine and a corkscrew.

There was much shoving and arguing as the team sorted out drinks and snacks and finally arranged themselves in the small sitting room. Bucky, now with his arm attached and wearing a shirt, sat at one end of the sofa, with Coulson at the other. Steve took the armchair, and Clint sat on the floor, leaning back against Coulson’s shins, and steadily eating chips from a bowl on the coffee table. The middle seat on the sofa was left free, ostensibly for Natasha, although she was currently occupied perusing the bookcase, and examining their choice of books and DVDs. 

“So what’s this all about then?” Steve asked, “apparently there was some kind of party invite that I missed. I have a day off from work and, what, you all decide you miss me so much you need to come over?”

“Um, I may have forgotten to mention it but I invited the others over so we could plan our strategy for this business with Hammer. Sorry, I should have told you.”

Steve stretched out a leg and amiably kicked Bucky in the shin. Bucky tapped his bare foot against Steve’s sock-clad one in return. 

“So how do we fix this thing then?” Natasha asked, still looking through their possessions, peering closely at a series of photos of Steve and Bucky from childhood to them in army uniform.

“I’m happy to shoot Justin Hammer,” Clint offered, “I can make it look like a hunting accident.”

“You’d have to shoot Loki as well, plus the whole of the rest of their goons. That many accidents is going to raise questions, and you’re probably the only person in the whole state that goes hunting with a bow and arrow.” Coulson told him. 

“And you’re too pretty for prison.” Natasha added, finally taking a seat. 

“I have something I should tell you,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish. “I went up to the city today. I had an appointment with Pepper Potts. I asked if she could get Stark’s help to raise the profile on this a bit; get as many people as possible paying attention, see if it’ll scare off anyone trying some underhand tactics.”

He proceeded to explain his strategy and that Pepper had been unwilling to take on the idea. 

Coulson stayed quiet throughout, but spoke into the silence that followed.

“Pepper is a close personal friend of mine from college, and this goes no further than this room, but I think there’s more going on at SI than they’re willing to talk about in public.”

“You think there’s something underhand happening?” Natasha asked.

“Not underhand. Just confidential. Private, maybe. I think it might be something to do with Stark and his kidnap. They’ve never given many details about the nature of his injuries, which is understandable, but even once he’s been said to be back on his feet, he’s signed his company over to someone else, and he’s rarely seen in public. This is the guy who appeared on the society pages every week, and now he’s only been to one heavily stage-managed press conference. He doesn’t go out to parties, and he’s not ever been papped just going about daily life.”

“Everyone knows the guy nearly died, if he’s still recovering from his injuries then he’s probably not feeling much like partying. Plus he must be suffering some level of mental trauma,” Natasha said. 

“Exactly, but they’re not saying that. They’ve not made any report to their investors about the state of his health or his long-term prognosis. And by getting Pepper to take control he’s removed any bargaining power that the investors might have to try and demand a public disclosure on his physical and mental health.”

“Are you saying that you think this whole thing has fried his brain, that he’s had a breakdown?”

“I’m saying that I think he might be dying.”

 

A heavy silence weighed on the room. Clint finally broke it. 

“Well I don’t know about anyone else but I need another drink. Or five.” he tipped his head right back against Coulson’s knee, arching his back until he could look at him with his head upside down. “Do you want another?”

Coulson absentmindedly reached out and stroked a hand affectionately through Clint’s hair, “Wine, please.” 

Steve caught the intimate gesture and couldn’t help but stare. He’d become friends with Clint in the past few weeks, but he hadn’t seen or heard of any particular closeness between him and Coulson. He wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with physical affection in a friendship –it was impossible to maintain much in the way of personal space when you had been friends with Bucky for twenty years– but that didn’t look like just friendship to him.

Natasha saw him staring and frowned, trying to catch his eye. He smiled at her and offered to get her another drink as well. 

 

\--

The group finally concluded that there was not a lot they could do until they knew what the official SHIELD response to Hammer’s proposal was. Coulson agreed to stay in close contact with Pepper, but it was a heavy air that sat over the group as they said goodnight - the others all piling into a taxi together leaving Steve and Bucky to debrief. 

They worked together to clear up the apartment, loading glasses and plates into the dishwasher and squashing down pizza boxes to fit in the trash. 

“Clint and Coulson,” Steve asked Bucky, “are they a thing?”

Bucky nodded, “Uh huh. They don’t ever really talk about it and they never act like it at work, but they live together. Nat’s close to Clint, so she knows the most, but even she doesn’t know exactly how long they’ve been involved.”

“Oh.” Steve said in a small voice.

“I told you that no one at SSR would judge.” Bucky reminded him. 

“I know, but I didn’t realise… I just assumed that was your blind faith in the fact that people are too scared of you to ever insult me.”

“Ha, no. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about them, but it’s private, and not particularly well known. I didn’t think I should go round telling you about their private business any more than I would go round telling them about yours without you saying it was ok.”

“No, I know, it’s ok.” Steve looked thoughtful as he pushed the dishwasher closed and set the programme running. “Hey I’ll make us pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure thing, Rogers,” Bucky said. 

“‘Night, Barnes.”

“G‘night”. 

 

\--

 

Friday afternoons were always quiet. Steve was manning the gatehouse by himself and drinking tea with Natasha while Peggy took her lunch break when the midnight blue Porsche roared down the entry road.

It pulled to a sudden halt at the entrance barrier and the driver beeped the horn repeatedly. 

“Hey, can you keep the noise down. Where’s the fire?” he called, struggling to retain his professional demeanour as he strode over to the barrier. 

The car window rolled down, revealing none other than Tony Stark, wearing a dark blue suit that coordinated with the car. 

“I’d say it’s in my pants, looking at you, sugar,” he told Steve, looking him up and down with lascivious leer, peering over the top of his designer sunglasses. Steve flushed bright red, “now be a dear and open the barrier, I don’t want to spend a second longer than I have to at this godforsaken dump.”

“I’m sorry sir, but do you have an appointment?” Steve stalled him, thoroughly riled by the obnoxious attitude. 

“I’m here to see your glorious cyclops leader. You know, yeh tall, bald, eyepatch...?”

“I will contact Mr. Fury’s secretary for you and see if he’s available. Can I take your name?” 

“You know who I am.”

“I’m sorry sir, but there are no appointments in the diary for today. Mr. Fury is a very busy man, so if you don’t have an appointment–.”

“How about you get that stick out of your ass and just let me in. To the site I mean. Although if you asked nicely and you miss that stick... ” Stark trailed off, grinning. 

“I’m sorry sir, but it’s not acceptable for you to speak to me like that. Perhaps you and your flashy suits and your expensive car should go away, and come back when you’ve learned how to be civil.” 

“Yeah, I’ve really touched a nerve there. Learn to take a compliment, blondie. Let me guess, you were the star quarterback at school right? Scared your little redhead over there is going to find out what you and your buddies used to get up to in the locker rooms?”

“You know nothing about me, Stark.”

“Ha! See, you do know who I am. That wasn’t so hard to admit now, was it?”

Natasha joined them, making sure to come wide into Steve’s peripheral vision so as not to startle him. 

“Last minute addition to Fury’s calendar, gentlemen.” she announced. “Let him through.”

Stark grinned and pushed his sunglasses up his nose, revving the engine as Steve reluctantly raised the barrier. 

“I’ll let you get back to staring at her tits and wishing away your latent homosexual feelings.” he told Steve as a parting shot, flooring the accelerator and pulling away in a cloud of burning rubber, leaving tyre marks on the tarmac. 

Steve was positively shaking with rage. 

“Here, give me the bag,” Natasha told him, “go and walk it off; I’ll cover for you.”

\--

Later, when Peggy had gone up to the office with the takings and Steve was just finished locking up, Natasha appeared silently beside him. 

“Jesus, Nat! You need to stop doing that to people.” 

“It’s too much fun.” she shrugged, her face blank.

Steve hefted a signboard and carried it back to the gatehouse with Natasha following beside him.

“Hey thanks for earlier by the way. I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that, it was totally unprofessional.” 

“I wanted to talk to you about that. You got pretty wound up there. You know he was deliberately trying to get a reaction.”

“I know, Nat. I just don’t like people taking one look at me and deciding that they know everything about me. Just making all those comments about me and inferring all sorts of awful things.”

Natasha went very still.

“I see. I have to go now.” she abruptly turned on her heel and stalked off. 

“Well that was weird.” Steve announced to the empty road. 

 

\----


	6. Natasha has the wrong end of the stick, and Bucky is a good bro

Natasha was sitting on a large flat rock by the lake at the top of the estate when Bucky finally tracked her down. He paused for a moment to catch his breath and take in the view - the afternoon sun shining low across the lake; ripples across the water in the wake of a swimming duck; and Natasha silhouetted against the backdrop, her hair gleaming in the sun. 

His feet crunched in the gravel and he approached, and without turning Natasha moved over to make space for him to sit down. 

“How’d you know it was me?” he asked as he took a seat. 

Natasha shrugged, 

“Heard you. Recognised your footsteps.”

“Steve thinks you’re angry with him.” 

“Not angry - I don’t waste time on losers like that.” she said, without inflection. 

Bucky was momentarily taken aback. 

“Watch what you say next, Nat, Steve’s my best friend.” 

Natasha turned to look at him and raised one elegant eyebrow. 

“Well either he’s not the person you think he is, or you’re not the person I thought you were. You should choose your friends more carefully.” She told him, turning back to look over the lake again. A pair of geese came in to land on the far side of the water, ripples spreading out from their touch down. 

“You want to expand on that?” Bucky asked, trying not to get too worked up. He liked Natasha, and so he was willing to hear her out, although he would always his friendship with Steve above others. 

“He’s a homophobic dick, Bucky.” 

There was a beat of silence, and then Bucky burst out laughing, doubling over wheezing unattractively as he tried to get himself under control. 

“Oh my god, Natasha. No way in hell is Steve homophobic; where are you getting this from?”

Natasha looked nonplussed.

“First of all, when we were at your apartment last week, he got super weird with Clint and Coulson. I chose to ignore that, he seems like a nice guy and I get that sometimes people can be uncomfortable with a gay couple when they turn up in their house even if they’re fine with it in theory. I figured I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. But then today, when Stark turned up - you heard about this, right?” 

Bucky nodded assent. 

“Stark turns up, does his thing trying to wind Steve up and get a rise out of him, which works a treat, so I try and sympathise with him over being creeped on and he turns around and says he thinks it’s disgusting. I don’t give people third chances, Buck. He might be the nicest guy in the world to you, but I sure as hell don’t have to be his friend.” 

Bucky managed to control his laughter, and twisted to look directly at Natasha.

“Nat, I’m not trying to ride roughshod over what you’ve seen and heard. But trust me, Steve is not homophobic. He was weird with Clint and Coulson because he hadn’t realised that they were a couple. He felt embarrassed that he’d not realised, not embarrassed that they’re both guys. And you said yourself that Stark was creeping on him. You think maybe it was his lechery that Steve was disgusted by, not his gender?”

Natasha took a deep breath, but stayed quiet. 

“Nat, I like you. I think you know that. You’re one of my best friends here, I respect the hell out of you, and I know this might seem that I’m just dismissing your lived experience because I don’t want to think badly about Steve. But please, please trust me that he’s a good guy?”

Natasha still said nothing, but she took two apples from her pocket, handing one to Bucky while she polished the other on her sleeve. They ate together in tense silence until they had to go back to work. 

\----

“So Natasha thinks you’re a homophobic douchebag and now she’s avoiding you.” Bucky announced, taking a seat at the other end of the sofa from Steve. He set down two bottles of beer on the coffee table and then stripped off his shirt, setting to work with his good hand on the catches that held his prosthetic arm in place.

Steve stared dumbly at him over the top of his sketchbook. 

“I told her she was wrong, but I’m pretty sure she thinks I was just being a loyal bro or something.” Bucky continued. 

“Why does she think that?” Steve asked, perplexed.

“She thought you were freaked out about Clint and Coulson, and that your repulsion about Stark is because he’s a guy not because he’s a sleazy dirtbag with an overextended sense of entitlement.” Bucky informed him solemnly. He finished unfastening his arm, and placed it carefully on the coffee table. He shrugged and massaged the shoulder joint, easing the ache from wearing the prosthetic. 

Steve sighed and tipped his head to rest on the back of the sofa. 

“So now I have to come out to her, too?”

“Of course not!” Bucky said, pulling a face and grabbing one of the beers.

“But she’s not going to believe me otherwise.”

“Tough. You don’t have to come out to someone if you don’t want to, just to prove that they’ve misjudged you. I mean, you know I support you all the way if you want to tell her, but you shouldn’t feel like you have to.”

“Bucky, I know you’re sweet on her, I don’t want you to fall out with her over this.”

Bucky fixed Steve with a glare and took a swig of beer before responding. 

“Well I’m not letting you be backed into a corner and outed against your will. If she decides she doesn’t like me because I’m friends with you then that’s her stuff and it’s for her to deal with. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, man.”

“Thanks, Buck.” Steve reached out and slung an arm around Bucky’s neck, pulling him in for a quick hug. “I told Peggy today." he continued, "That I’m gay.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It felt good to say it, you know. We were just chatting, and it came up in conversation, and so I mentioned it. No big deal.” 

“Good for you. Still doesn't mean you gotta tell Nat just to prove you’re not a bigot.” Bucky pointed out.

“Hmm, maybe. Hey, so I heard from Clint that Coulson was in New York last night, and that he had dinner with Pepper Potts.” Steve said, putting his sketch book on the table and swapping it for his beer.

“About the deal?” 

“Looks like it, yeah. I mean, yeah they’re old friends. But Clint says that all the other times Coulson’s had to go down to the city for SHIELD business he’s never met up with Potts while he was there before. So it looks like two old friends catching up, but he’s definitely still working the SI angle on this.”

“Do we know why Stark was meeting with Fury yet?”

“Nope. Hill outright asked him, and he said it was none of her business. She came and ranted to Peggy about it for a full half hour. Don’t think he’s ever cut her out of his plans before. She’s scary when she’s angry.”

“I can imagine.” 

“How come all of the women we know are both terrifying and brilliant?” Steve asked after a moment. 

“It’s not all the women we know, so much as it’s just all women.” 

“Huh.” Steve grunted, looking pensive. 

“Steve, women are badass. They’re strong as all fuck. They can do everything that men can do, except that they do it in a world that is stacked against them pretty much all the time. You know, like Ginger Rogers.” Bucky explained. 

Steve stared at him in confusion. 

“ ...Ginger Rogers?” he asked, cautiously.

“Yeah. You’ve never heard that saying? Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but she did it backwards and in high heels?” 

“Well… I never thought about it like that before.” 

“And that, my friend, is your male privilege showing.” 

Steve aimed an amiable kick at Bucky’s shin and rolled his eyes.

“How do you know all of this stuff, anyway?” Steve asked. 

“I like women. I really _like_ women - I don’t just think they’re some kind of decorative ornament that exists for my entertainment and pleasure. So I spend time finding about their lives occasionally... Plus you know fine well that Mama Barnes brought me up to respect the hell out of them.” 

“Yeah, she tried that on me too.” 

“I still remember your face when she decided we needed to learn about the menstrual cycle.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” 

“You still flinch every time someone makes reference to periods.” 

“Buck, a huge selling point for me on liking men was not having to think about the finer details of female biology…”

“Really? You think it was that way round? Not that you being gay was maybe why you didn’t like thinking about naked women?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, maybe.” Steve conceded 

Bucky laughed and threw a throw pillow at his head.


	7. Sam has a back up plan, and Steve reaches the end of his tether.

Sam frowned after the car as it swung left at the end of the road and up towards the manor house. Steve crossed over to join him. 

“Was that Stark and Potts?” he asked. 

Sam nodded, “yep, right on time for their meeting with Fury.” he sighed. “I don’t like this,” he added, then brightened slightly. “So, hey, I have a back-up plan now,” he told Steve. 

“Back-up plan?”

“Yeah you know, for if we’re facing worst case scenario. I’ve written a business plan. Hang on-” he ducked back into the office of their gatehouse, and came back out clutching a shiny colour document, spiral bound with a thin transparent plastic cover. “Here, have it” he told Steve. “I want to open a recovery centre for vets. PTSD and shit. Lots of outdoors, some art therapy, all that.”

Steve flicked through the document as Sam outlined his plans in detail until the sound of a car engine interrupted them. Steve glanced up the road to see no less than four cars approaching. 

“Looks like the lunchtime rush is starting,” he declared, and tucked the business plan into the large pocket on his bag to take home and read later. 

“Oh,” Sam called to Steve as he flagged down the first of the approaching cars, “Hill called before: she said Stark is doing a site tour later. He might come down to see where the magic happens.”

Steve grimaced, then turned to greet the second car, “Good morning, welcome to the Stark Scenic Retreat, are you members of SHIELD?...”

\---

Peggy was locked in the office cashing up when Tony Stark came down to the gatehouse. Steve was packing boxes into Peggy’s car, ready for her to take up to the main office. Bucky was carrying in the A-boards to be locked in the gatehouse overnight. 

“Ah, it’s the quarterback!” Stark announced, leaning against the picnic table, and grinning cockily. His knee was out of the brace, though he was struggling to hide a slight limp still. Walking around the sprawling site did nothing for his recovery. 

His trademark sunglasses hid dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep caused by pain and nightmares. 

Steve rolled his eyes, and paused in hefting boxes to raise a hand in half-hearted greeting. 

“What’s up.” Bucky greeted, as he passed, sign board tucked under his good arm. 

“You ok?” Steve asked him, frowning as Bucky grunted and shifted the board to get through the doorway into the gatehouse storeroom. 

“Yes, stop fussing,” Bucky answered, with an exasperated tone. “I was doing this job for years before you turned up.” he reminded Steve. 

“Yeah, Stevie,” Stark interjected, “your boyfriend can manage fiiine without you!” 

“Stay out of this,” Steve told him, and hefted the last of the boxes into the trunk of Peggy’s car. He went and knocked on the locked office door. “Ready when you are, Peg.” he called. 

“Hey, don’t mind me.” Stark told him, poking into one of the boxes, and examining the contents with an air of boredom. “You lot demand that I start giving a monkey’s ass about this place, then the least you can do is pretend to give a shit in return.” he plucked a leaflet out of the trunk. “Is this the kind of crap you hand out to visitors here? How much does this place make, anyway?” he asked. 

Peggy appeared out of the office, carrying the cash box and the paperwork. She raised one manicured eyebrow at Stark, giving him an appraising glance, and then turned to Steve. 

“Be a dear, Steve, and run this lot up to the office for me?” she asked, “We’ve had an inquiry from a college group and I said I would call them back before the end of the day”. 

“Sure thing ma’am,” Steve said with a grin, helping Peggy to load the paperwork and cash box into the trunk alongside the boxes, and reaching out a hand to take her car keys. 

Stark ducked into the passenger seat as Steve started the engine. Steve glared at him, “if you’re coming then you better not get in the way.” Steve warned. 

There was a stony silence as he drove slowly up to the main office and pulled into the staff parking bay behind the main house. Stark’s Porsche was parked in the adjacent bay, suggesting that Pepper was somewhere inside meeting with Fury. 

Tony continued to trail after Steve, asking incessant questions and generally getting in the way. 

At the fourth attempt at putting away the various boxes only to almost trip over Tony, Steve had finally had enough. 

“What is your problem?!” Steve demanded, rounding on Stark.

Tony was speechless for a second, feigning surprise but secretly pleased that he’d managed to provoke Steve. The momentary surprise --and if he was being totally honest here, also arousal-- at the growl in Steve’s voice threw him for just a moment. Luckily he was well versed in talking on autopilot while his brain took a minute to catch up.

“I don’t have a problem. You have a problem. You clearly are uncomfortable being here. Just cos a guy gets all up in your personal space.” he raised an eyebrow and smirked at Steve, “Or maybe I struck a bit too close to home with the comments about you and Bucky earlier, hmm?” he took a step closer to Steve, into his personal space, causing the taller man to take a step back.

“Let me guess, you go way back to school friends and he's the guy you used to get to bend over for you and now you’re terrified he’ll tell? Or was it a game of truth or dare that just got a bit too real?” as he was talking, Tony continued to get up in Steve’s face, backing him up against the desk, so he couldn’t escape without physically pushing the shorter man out of the way.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Stark.” Steve told him, his voice pitched low, with an edge of danger. 

Tony looked him up and down and stepped closer still, so that they were pressed chest to chest, their feet interlocked. Tony reached up and slowly traced a fingertip down Steve’s cheek. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked seductively. “I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?” 

There was a pause in which neither of them moved, and then faster than Tony could react, Steve reached up and grabbed Tony’s wrist. With his other hand he gripped him by the shoulder, and brought their mouths together in an urgent kiss. Tony made a surprised noise, but kissed back for a moment, leaning into the aggression behind Steve’s actions, before shoving him back. Steve started talking before he could take back control of the conversation. 

“For your information, despite what you’re implying, having an attractive man in my personal space is not making me uncomfortable. Not that it’s any of your business, but as it happens I _am_ gay.” he took a breath, on a roll now with righteous indignation. “However, Bucky is not now, nor has he ever been my boyfriend. The reason I’m protective of him is because I had to watch him get blown up when a stray piece of _your_ weaponry went off without warning. And I care about whether he’s ok with heavy lifting because his piece of shit arm, which incidentally is also Stark tech, is useless at fine motor control, and so heavy that it gives him shoulder cramp and back aches.” he stepped sideways out of Tony’s path, and stalked angrily out the door. 

Tony was, for possibly the first time ever, completely speechless. 

“Well,” he announced to the empty room. “That was unexpected.”


	8. Tony moves his plan along

Steve and Bucky had a routine for their Monday mornings, the only day of the week they both were guaranteed to have off. 

They would get up early and go for a run. When they came back they would shower, and whoever was ready first started cooking up eggs, bacon, hash browns, and baked beans. 

(The first time Bucky had brought home the tin of made-for-the-UK-market beans, on the recommendation of his British ex-pat physiotherapist, Steve had been sceptical. But the flavour was different than he was used to eating as a kid in Brooklyn, and they’d grown to be a staple in the Rogers-Barnes brunch ritual.)

Following the extended brunch, reading the papers and with the radio on quietly in the background. Then there was time for errands, after which Bucky usually napped and left Steve to read or draw in peace.

This Monday, they were thrown off the normal pattern with the television tuned to the much-anticipated press conference at Stark Industries. They sat in front of the tv, which showed a podium set up outside Stark Tower, the cameras trained to the empty dias, while the pundits voiceover speculated about the mysterious announcement that Stark was expected to make. 

This was going to be his first public appearance following his repatriation to the US, and would silence many of the sceptics who had speculated that his injuries were worse than claimed, and that his lack of public appearances was because he was unconscious in a hospital bed.

Steve was restless as they waited for the press conference to start. Bucky was glued to the tv, sitting cross legged on the floor so as to get closer to the screen. Steve got up to fetch more coffee, feeling hot and anxious. He’d felt out of sorts since the encounter with Stark the day before, and he could not settle. Stuck halfway between watching as an neutral bystander, while also feeling that perhaps somehow he was involved in this. 

“Steve!” Bucky prompted, and the tv showed a sudden flurry of activity. He clicked the volume louder, as the pundit commentary quieted, and the cameras trained on a security team, some unknown assistants carrying briefing packets, and finally Tony Stark stepped up to the podium, with Pepper Potts just half a step behind him.

\---

Tony Stark was no stranger to public scrutiny. The heir to a manufacturing dynasty, and one ruled by a charismatic leader at that, made for a lot of interest from the public. Plus he’d been trained up to take over the business from a young age, and exposed to official publicity duties for as long as he could remember. 

Add to that what he’d been exposed to when his business partner and former guardian and mentor had been revealed to have been engaging in highly illegal business practice and embezzlement, and the lengthy legal proceedings that followed as he tried to claim ownership of a company he didn’t actually want. Stark Industries had experienced trial by fire, and they’d come through intact. 

They could survive this too. 

As he stepped out onto the stage and followed the pack of security personnel, business advisors and administrative assistants, he breathed slowly in and out. The camera flashes and the expectant eye of the waiting crowd didn’t concern him. But he knew there would be fallout from this announcement, and he was glad to have Pepper there backing him up, both literally and metaphorically. 

They were anticipating a fall in stock as a result of this decision, three of the board members had resigned in protest. The others, he knew, were sticking it out mostly out of a combination of loyalty and pity. Which, he worried, probably made them terribly unqualified to be business advisors, but nonetheless, he knew he was right and they would go with him for now. 

He was alive, he was breathing and walking and talking. He survived three months detained by terrorists, he could survive this. 

He shuffled his notes on the podium, really just for show, and looked up, meeting the gaze of the press and the public, the supporters and critics. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press, I have asked you all to be here today for a very specific purpose. As you know, I recently spend some time getting to know some of the local people in a particularly bleak part of Afghanistan.” 

Make eye contact, smile, pause for the nervous laugh. He’d delivered this as his opening offhand remark, designed to break the ice and add a lighthearted touch.

“It was an interesting learning experience. To be totally immersed in the local culture and customs, and to really get to know what the lasting impact of American military influence on foreign soil means.”

God, but he wished he’d got more sleep last night. He’d been awake until around 4am working on this new passion project, and he’d been up again just after 6 o’clock for a round of last minute briefings, a conversation with his psychologist, and then dragging his exhausted body through its mandated PT exercises. 

“I care about people. I have always cared about people.” pause, draw it out, “This company cares about people.”

The concealer on the dark circles under his eyes was courtesy of Pepper. He didn’t question why a fair skinned redhead was carting around appropriate base for his olive skin, but he was grateful nonetheless. She had hated this idea when he’d first raised it, but she’d listened and understood, and here she was helping make him look alive, fresh faced and competent. They knew that in the fallout, there would be accusations of brainwashing, of PTSD, of him not being capable of rational decision making. 

“We care about our own staff and families, about the American people, and about all global citizens, and that is why-” pause again, just for a fraction of a second, build this up to a crescendo, “Stark Industries has taken the decision to shut down its weapons manufacturing”. 

He leaned back slightly from the microphone, keeping up the calm and relaxed expression, and revelled in the sudden explosion of noise and light. Cameras flashed, and at least half the journalists in the room were out of their seats, shouting questions and holding out audio recorders as they sought answers. 

Tony knew he could wait a moment before continuing. His notes included their overarching statement on how to deal with existing military contracts, the implications on his own staff, and his plans for taking the business in a new and exciting direction.

Pepper briefly touched his shoulder and stepped over to speak to the admin team and dispatch them to distribute briefing packets. The details of the changes were all included, and his staff were also receiving emails as he spoke, to update them on the situation and reassure them about their job security. 

He held up a hand for silence, leaning forward to the microphone again, ready to speak as the audience quieted again. He knew what he was doing. He had this. They would survive. 

\---

The knocking on the door didn’t stop, interrupting Steve as he read through Sam’s business plan in detail. The document outlined both a physical building, as well as a whole host of therapies and support services for returning military personnel. It detailed both the day to day support for careers and housing, as well as more targeted and specialist help for veterans suffering from trauma, physical or mental.

“Alright, alright! Give me a chance!” he yelled, as he marked his place and dropped the booklet onto the coffee table and went to answer the door. 

He stepped back, surprised and slightly shocked, 

“Stark?!”

Tony smiled winningly and breezed past Steve, already talking a mile a minute.

“I have the solution! I am amazing and brilliant going to make your lives better. Is he here? Because I need baseline data, ”

“Stark?”

“--if I’m going to fine tune the spec. I mean, also just the basic physiological measurements as well. But then of course there’s the neural pathways and the connectivity.”

“Stark!”

“I talked to the bio-robotics team but they are apparently all idiots who have no clue how engineering works and they don’t even seem to realise that you need to specifically tailor for strength and dexterity in order for an appropriate change to me made, and--” 

“Tony!” Steve yelled, using his superior height and build to finally step into Tony’s path and stop him in his tracks.

“What?” Tony asked, surprised. He seemed genuinely not to have realised that Steve had been vaguely trailing after him and trying to get his attention. 

“What are you doing here, and what the hell are you talking about?” Steve asked, totally lost. 

Tony gestured to the box he’d set down on the coffee table. And raised his eyebrows meaningfully, 

“I brought a new arm for your friend. You said yesterday that the one he’s got isn’t working right. So i made a new one. Well, started to. It’s a prototype for now, but if i can just get some metrics to work with then I’ll have the finished one up and running in no time. Where is Nelson anyway?”

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway to the living room. Straight out of bed, his hair stuck up wildly, and he was wearing just boxers and a t shirt, one sleeve empty and hanging loose. 

“Uh-- what’s going on?” he asked, stifling a yawn. He frowned as he looked between Tony and Steve, and then sighed. “Make coffee.” he demanded, “I’m getting dressed.”

He disappeared back into his bedroom, closing the door a little harder than necessary. 

Steve rolled his eyes, and stepped over to the small kitchen to fill the kettle. He grabbed the aeropress from the cupboard, checked the level of beans in the hopper, and flicked the on switch on the grinder.

Tony busied himself with the large rectangular box he had brought. He opened the top compartment, pulling out a laptop, and a series of wires and sensors, and started laying them out carefully on the sofa. 

\--  
After a good hour of Tony prodding and poking at Bucky, taking measurements of his strength, coordination, reflexes, and basic arm size, he finally started to pack up. The questions had seemed endless, and Tony had insisted that Bucky show him the full scope of his existing prosthetic, list every failing and limitation it had, and then go through a full range of motion tests with his good arm. But as soon as Tony had announced his intention to make a world-class prosthetic, Bucky was sold on the idea. 

“Why are you doing this?” Steve asked quietly. Bucky was sprawled on the sofa, nursing a beer, while Tony made notes on a tablet and Steve washed their coffee mugs. 

Tony glanced up and frowned slightly. “You said yesterday - Bucky’s arm is Stark tech. I’m not having my reputation ruined by a hunk of junk.” he shrugged, trying to shake off the intense scrutiny of Steve’s gaze. He finished typing notes with a flourish, and then grinned at Bucky and then Steve. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I need to make like a banana and split.” 

Steve stepped over to help carry the box that contained the new prototype arm, and held the door open. Tony stopped in the doorway, and reached out a hand to touch Steve’s arm. He held his gaze for a moment and then leaned in and murmured,

“I’m trying to be a better man. I want redemption.” 

He closed the gap between them, pressing a kiss to Steve’s mouth. Steve barely had time to react before Tony was pulling away again. With a jaunty salute to Bucky, who was now staring in shock at the two other men, he grabbed the arm box from Steve and left. 

 

“Uh...what the fuck just happened?” Steve asked, feeling dumbfounded.

“Pretty sure Tony Stark just kissed you, man”

“I thought so. But it seemed very unlikely.” 

Steve wandered over to the sofa and slumped down next to Bucky. 

“You didn’t seem to object.” Bucky pointed out.

“He’s Tony Stark, Buck.”

“...Who you have frequently described as a pathetic, small minded, money grabbing warlord?”

“He can be those things and attractive. I’m ethically concerned; I’m not dead. Besides, he’s not a warlord anymore.”

“Which was a bit of a bolt from the blue. What exactly did you do to him yesterday?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, frowning. 

“He’s spent his entire life as an amoral, heterosexual playboy who sells weapons, then all of a sudden he’s shutting down weapons manufacture, atoning for his sins, and kissing you. Are you really trying to tell me it’s a coincidence?” he glanced at Steve. While he had been only half serious in thinking Steve could have influenced Tony in any way, the telltale flush spreading up Steve’s neck set him on alert. “What the hell happened while you were in the office yesterday?!”

“Nothing!” Steve said, now bright red and refusing to meet Bucky’s eye.

“Yeah, no. You’ve never been able to lie to me, don’t think you can start now.”

Steve groaned and tipped over sideways, squashing into Bucky just like he always had when they were kids and he was sickly and half Bucky’s size. 

“He kissed me yesterday too.” he admitted. “Well, I kissed him I guess. I don’t know. He was winding me up and on this rant about how he thinks I’m repressed and closeted, and he challenged me to gay chicken, and you know that’s not really a challenge when one of the players is actually gay.”

“I’m starting to think that maybe Stark isn’t as hetero as people have been assuming all these years.” Bucky observed wryly. 

Steve snorted with laughter and snagged Bucky’s beer, taking a swig. 

“Yeah - I think you might be right.” 

 

He didn’t notice until later that the business plan for Sam’s therapy centre was missing.


	9. Judgement Day

“Hey, we saved you a seat,” Bucky told them, and Clint and Natasha snuck into the back of the room. “Where are the others? I thought Coulson was coming with you.”

“He’s just in the lobby; he had to take a call. I thought Fury and Hill would already be here though.”

“No sign of them yet. Hammer and Loki turned up about 10 minutes ago. They looked far too smug for my liking. Thor’s had to leave the room: he’s so angry I think he was throwing sparks.”

“We saw Thor. Jane’s with him, so that should help. I’m really glad Bruce stayed away. Can you imagine?”

A hush fell over the room as a young man in glasses walked over to the podium on the stage. 

“Ladies and gentlemen if you’d all like to take your seats, we’ll get started in just a couple of minutes. Thank you.” he switched the microphone off again and proceeded to fiddle with the laptop, checking the connection to the projector, and arranging a bottle of water and tucking away a trailing cable.

Jane and Thor re-entered the hall, but stayed standing close to the door rather than joining the others to sit down. Jane gave them a smile and a wave, keeping her other hand on Thor’s shoulder. 

Another man stepped up to the stage, and spoke quietly with the technician before turning to the podium and shuffling his notes. 

“That’s Jasper Sitwell,” Natasha whispered. “Hill doesn’t like him much, but he and Coulson go way back. He’s a bit of a wildcard.”

“Thank you all for coming today.” Sitwell began, the room settling as he spoke. “I’m speaking on behalf of the SHIELD board of directors as a whole, and this is the confirmation and conclusion review of the current Stark Scenic Retreat, or SSR, which has been under the protection and care of SHIELD since 1999. As I’m sure you are all aware, SHIELD has recently been approached with alternative proposals for the use of the site, and we asked our Working Sites Committee to review the current use of the site and the alternative proposals, and to make a report and recommendations.” 

The door to the hall opened again, and Fury entered, closely followed by Hill. He nodded at Jane and Thor, and they took up a position flanking them on the other side of the double doors. Clint twisted round in his seat for a better look, but there was still no sign of Coulson. An aide sitting with Hammer and Loki stepped outside to take a call. 

“In line with the SHIELD policy on acquisitions, sales, and change of use of our protected sites, that full report will be made available on our website following this briefing. The committee recommendations have been reviewed by the board, and we have called this press conference today in order to announce the board's decision with regard to the future of the SSR. 

“The committee has made a comprehensive review of the available information both for the good of SHIELD but also what is in the best interests of the SSR site itself as well. Our policy is to look at every option on its merits, on a case by case basis, and I cannot stress enough that we don’t operate simply on a financial decision making basis, but what is in the best interests of all stakeholders.”

The silence in the room was absolute. Steve had to remind himself to keep breathing.

“We regret to announce that the ownership of SSR by SHIELD has come to an end.”

There were audible groans in the room. Clint doubled over in his chair, resting his forehead on his knees. Natasha’s face was a blank mask. Peggy reached over and took Steve’s hand, squeezing it for support. Bucky was muttering obscenities under his breath. 

The aide scurried back into the room and whispered frantically to Hammer. Loki, sitting at the end of the row behind Hammer stood and edged out of the room, slipping out of a side door.

“Paperwork is currently with our legal team, and the details are being finalised as we speak but this time next month SSR will no longer be a SHIELD asset. 

“And now ladies and gentlemen I’d like to welcome to the stage the new owner of the SSR to outline for you his plans for the future of the site.” 

The screen behind Sitwell changed from showing the SHIELD logo, and on screen flashed up a colourful diagram of the site, showing some new buildings and labelled as to how the site was now going to used. 

“Hey, wait a minute--” Sam muttered, staring at the uncannily familiar diagram in disbelief.

Justin Hammer had a face like thunder, and he was gripping the aide by the collar of his shirt.

“Please put your hands together,” the hall doors flew open, “for Mr. Tony Stark.”

The room erupted with questions as Stark strode through the sudden clamour of reporters as he took the stage. Trailing after him were Pepper Potts, a big guy in a suit and earpiece that screamed bodyguard, and–

“Coulson? What the hell!” Bucky exclaimed. Steve glanced back to the door. Jane and Thor had similar expressions of disbelief, but Fury looked serene and Hill nodded in acknowledgement to the team. 

“That’s my plan.” Sam kept repeating to himself. 

“What the hell happened in the last twenty-four hours?!” Peggy was still holding Steve’s hand, finger nails digging uncomfortably into his palm. 

Steve himself sat in stunned silence, mouth gaping and staring at Stark -- who looked around the room, caught his eye and winked at him. 

Steve snapped his mouth shut. Stark waved his hand for silence, and the crowd reluctantly settled. 

“Ladies, gentlemen, and members of the press. Two weeks ago, I told my magnificent CEO that I thought the best thing for the SSR would be to burn it to the ground. You will no doubt be pleased to learn that I have changed my mind.”

\--

Stark’s presentation lasted for about an hour, as he went through the detailed plan for the future of the site. The initial purchase capital was being sourced from his own personal funds, but the ongoing running costs would be supported by the Maria Stark Foundation. The site would continue to be used for tourism and education visits as it currently was, with ticket sales contributing to the running costs. But in addition, a full programme of therapy for people recovering from trauma would be established, with a special focus on veterans with PTSD. The plans exactly outlined the ideas that Sam had shared with Steve, though at a bigger scale than he had thought possible. 

As the presentation wound down and the invasive questioning from the assembled reporters droned on interminably, Bucky grabbed Steve by the arm and tugged him out into the lobby. 

“Did you know about this?” Bucky asked. 

“Do I look like I knew about it? Of course I didn’t! How could I possibly have known?” 

“Steve, those were Sam’s plans for expanding his counselling work into the SSR site. The ones that he showed you, which were lying around on our coffee table for days. But now Stark has them. I have to wonder, where the hell did he get them?”

“They were there when he came to the apartment to look at your arm...He must have seen them then, I guess?”

“What? He just happened to glance at them and decide to put a load of stuff in place just after one quick look at some documents?”

“Buck, what are you getting at, man?”

“You told me that the guy was basically trying to manipulate you into sleeping with him, and now all of a sudden he’s buying out the SSR. Steve, _what did you do?_ ”

Steve stared at Bucky for a long moment, incredulous as Bucky’s concerns dawned on him. 

“Oh my God, Bucky! Seriously?! I did not have sex with Tony Stark to convince him to buy the SSR!”

“Am I interrupting something?”

Steve and Bucky whipped round to find Pepper Potts watching them, the door to the auditorium pulled closed behind her.

“Um,” Steve began, unintelligently. 

“Private conversation, lady.” Bucky snarled at her, on the defensive as always when caught off guard. 

“Steve, I saw you slip out,” Pepper explained, “Tony wants to speak to you after the presentation so I thought I’d better make sure you didn’t leave.” 

“Oh well I guess I’ll just head off them - don’t want to get in the way of you paying Stark off for saving all our asses.” Bucky snapped, and stalked off, pushing open the heavy main doors and heading out into the carpark. 

Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Like himself, Bucky was a hothead, and he knew from experience that sometimes it was better to take five and come back to the issue when they had both had a chance to calm down. 

“Thanks,” he told Pepper, “Is there somewhere I can wait for him? I don’t fancy heading back in there right now.”

“Sure thing, come on. They’re almost done anyway - he’s not taking many more questions so it’ll be about another five minutes.”

Steve followed her down a corridor and she showed him into a side room, obviously an office.

“We have use of this room for the day. There’s tea and coffee there,” she gestured to a catering tray with carafes of coffee and hot water and a stack of cups, “and a water cooler just outside.” 

“Thanks.” Steve said, at a loss as to what to do.

“No problem.” Pepper smiled warmly, and reached for the door handle, “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

\---

Steve was gazing out the window, watching a bird collecting sticks on the balcony outside when he heard footsteps approaching. He snapped his head round to look just as Tony pushed open the heavy door. 

“You look like shit,” Steve blurted. 

Tony grinned, looking drained, and crossed the office to flop down on the sofa beside Steve. He still looked gaunt and tired as he had every time Steve had seen him while this had been going on. But his hair was ruffled now too, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, with his tie pulled loose. He looked exhausted but also relaxed. Like perhaps this was what he was like when he was off guard, rather than on show in the public eye. 

He snagged the half drunk coffee from Steve’s hand and took a grateful swig. 

“I’d say you’re not looking so hot yourself, but it’d be a lie”. Tony told him. 

“Pepper said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, I figured you might have some questions. Maybe like how I stole your fried Sam’s plans for the SSR?” 

“They were lying around when you came to look at Bucky’s arm. I figured you saw them then. That’s not really my pressing concern.”

“What is, then?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“They’re good plans. Seems sensible. Better than that asshole Hammer’s ideas of a redevelopment.”

“But why were you even there? At our apartment? Why do you give a shit about Bucky’s arm? About the SSR? You made it perfectly clear how you felt about the site when we first asked you for help. Then, what, you turn around and announce you’re giving up making weapons and now you want to help veterans?”

Tony sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. 

“I had already decided I was giving up the weapons. That was why I didn’t want to help. I figured it would be hard enough to convince people of my reshaped business plan, I didn’t want to confuse the issue.”   
“What happened? Merchant of Death wasn’t working out for you?”

Tony let out a low ‘hah’, sarcastic and resigned. 

“I thought I’d try out billionaire-genius-philanthropist for a change,” he declared with a hint of the wide grin that he used for the cameras, all charm and distraction. But the look was gone almost as soon as it appeared. 

“Something you said stuck with me,” Tony continued, “about my weapons and my tech hurting people. It stuck with me, a little. The concept of collateral.” 

He paused for a moment. Then began to unbutton his shirt as he spoke. 

“You know I was recently kidnapped? Well, it was paid for by my ex-business partner, Stane. He’s got contacts in prison it seems. And he paid a bunch of people to kill me. But instead they decided I should stay in their delightful hospitality and build them one of my weapons instead.” he shrugged off his shirt, leaving him in just a black undershirt. 

Steve swallowed, suddenly dry-mouthed. He had no clue where this was going but the intimacy of it, the show of trust, startled him.

“The plan backfired somewhat,” Tony went on, “I spent most of my time there unconscious. They’d already got one hostage, and he saved my life. Doctor Yinsen pulled a load of shrapnel out of my chest, bits of the bomb they used when they took me and parts of my own rib cage that had shattered. 

“He performed surgery in the worst conditions. But he’d done it before: he’s a trained medic, among other things, and he had worked in a makeshift field hospital in his village. It was attacked by terrorists using weapons stolen from me. His family were killed, but he saved others despite his grief. And he saved me, even though I didn’t deserve it.”

Tony stripped the t shirt of over his head, and peeled back the tape that held a large gauze dressing in place in the centre of his chest. 

Steve gasped when the wound was revealed. A network of red scars, partly healed in places, but still visibly angry wounds held together with blue stitches in others. Some were neat incisions from a scalpel, while others bore the telltale ragged edges of a battlefield injury. The look was completed with bruises, yellowing and faint at the edges.

“He eventually got a signal out to the search and rescue teams who were looking for me. Got us out, and then led the team doing reconstruction of my sternum when we got back. I haven’t done anything to deserve his kindness, but I’m trying to make up for that now.” 

“This is a mess,” Steve observed, his hand hovering close to Tony’s chest but not quite touching. “How are you not dead?”

“Yinsen reckons it’s divine intervention. Personally, I think he’s doing himself a disservice.” 

Tony reached out and took hold of Steve’s hand, reaching up to cup his face with the other. He pulled Steve towards him and kissed him slowly. 

“Bucky thinks I slept with you to get you to buy the SSR,” Steve blurted out as he pulled back from the kiss. 

Tony looked startled for half a second and then burst out laughing. 

“Not that I’m not flattered, Steve, but I’m not signed off for anything so athletic just at the moment,” he leaned in and kissed Steve again. 

“What you said to me struck a chord. I was being selfish; this whole second chance thing isn’t just about me. Other people are hurt by my actions as well, and this seemed like as good an opportunity as any to try to fix that too.” 

“And the kissing?” Steve asked, “Is that part of that as well?”

“Well I got sick of people telling me what to do. My company were very concerned about who I did and didn’t date, and I’m sick of them butting in. I like you, you gave zero fucks about my fame and fortune and you told me how it is. Not many people in my life will do that. Plus, like I said, you’re hot, so…” Tony laughed, a glint in his eye alongside the exhaustion. “But, hey, if you’re not interested then I will respect that. But if you are then I’m keen to see where this goes.” 

“Oh, I’m definitely interested,” Steve murmured, leaning in again. 

They were interrupted by the insistent ringing of Steve’s phone. It vibrated across the coffee table, and Steve just caught it as it fell of the edge. He rejected the call, but then groaned as he flicked through the messages, slumping into the sofa cushions. 

“My presence is required at the victory party,” Steve explained apologetically. “You want to come with? You are kinda the new boss…” he offered. 

Tony beamed at him.

“Sure thing.” 

\---


	10. Epilogue.

“Good afternoon, welcome to the SSR, how can I help you today?” Steve asked as the car pulled to a stop beside him. 

“Um,” the young woman driving looked nervous, “I’m here for the rehab programme?” She asked, tentative and unsure. 

“Great stuff,” Steve told her brightly, “if you just want to head up to the main carpark and then follow the signs for the visitor centre, my buddy Sam will meet you there.” he grinned and waved her through the barrier, not bothering to drop it for the next car that came roaring down the drive to their entrance point, he stepped to side as the sports car zoomed into the layby by their picnic table and Tony hopped out, reaching back into the car and pulling out an obscenely large wicker hamper.

Bucky had just finished attending a car in the other lane, and he caught Steve’s eye, rolling his in exasperation before dropping the barrier again to hold any more arriving cars. 

“I brought lunch for you all,” Tony declared, “Because I am the best boss ever.”

“Technically Coulson is our boss,” Peggy corrected him, “Since you made him managing director.” 

“And yet he doesn’t bring you food?”

“No, because he's too busy actually running the place.”

Tony sighed dramatically, and then reached out and poked Steve in the side as he started rummaging through the hamper choosing something to eat.

“What?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” Tony asked. “I’m the best boyfriend and I brought you lunch.”

“No kissing at work, Tony,” Steve insisted, before undermining this statement completely and leaning over for a quick kiss and hug in greeting. 

He chose some food and sat down, tensing only when they heard the telltale sound of another car approaching. 

“I’ve got it,” Peggy told him, touching Steve lightly on the shoulder before stepping up to the barrier. A second car followed soon after and Bucky groaned dramatically. 

“You have your romantic picnic,” he declared, “Peg and I will do all the work.” 

“Thanks Bucky,” Steve yelled at his retreating back and then turned to face Tony again. “How was your appointment this morning?” Steve asked. 

Tony had been spending a lot of his time at the SSR, staying in the living quarters of the main house, and generally avoiding most of the day-to-day activity at Stark Industries, leaving that to Pepper now that she was proven as his CEO and putting in place to the new business model so effectively. He had been into the city for a follow up medical appointment that morning though. 

“It was good. They’re pleased with my progress. Yinsen is happy with the fake chest plate, and the asshole nutritionists grudgingly acknowledged that I’m gaining weight. They don’t want to see me again for another six months unless I have any problems, and I am cleared for any activities, as vigorous as I want.” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Steve blushed. 

“Good to know,” he said, his voice low. “So, you wanna maybe grab dinner tonight?” 

Tony grinned. 

“I like how you think.” Tony told him. “You can come to mine; I’ll order in.” 

“You’re going to be out all evening?” Natasha asked, appearing beside them with no warning, and helping herself to a salad box from the hamper. 

“I hope so-” Steve said, at the same time as Tony’s emphatic,

“Yes!”. 

“Good to know,” Natasha said, smiling privately to herself as Bucky came back over to join them, Peggy close behind. 

“How’s the arm?” Tony asked Bucky. 

“Fully functional, and very useful, thanks.” Bucky said. “So I’m fully capable of dismembering you if you hurt my boy here.” he stated, glaring at Tony. Steve gave him a friendly shove in response. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Tony told him. 

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (And they all lived happily ever after. The End.)


End file.
